Legacy of the Chimera
by Peptuck
Summary: Three years after The Gunblade Saga, Squall Leonhart encounters the deadliest enemy of all: his own family. Can he and his comrades uncover the truth about the Chimera's legacy, while fighting terrorists, megalomanical madmen, and encroaching apocalypse?
1. Blood Prologue: Meetings

For the longest time I've been wanting to work on a Final Fantasy VIII after-game fanfic that spans a wide-ranging, epic storyline. After reading Daz Shier's "The Omega" my desire to perform such an epic rose exponentially. I had been working on a fanfic for a long time, called "Foreshadow" with a long, epic storyline meshed in the politics and wars of the world of FFVIII, with its own characters and concepts, and after much work and constant revisions and changes, I finalized a plotline. There was only one catch:

A little thing called "The Gunblade Saga" that was annoyingly stealing all of my time.

Well, with the end of that story (save for my personal reflections) there's noting on my plate but Synthesis and a few minor projects. Synthesis is currently suffering from an almighty writer's block on my part, but my mind has been furiously working on and processing ideas for the now-defunct Foreshadow, and many ideas I had developed for that storyline are being incorporated here. This story draws upon dozens of sources, ranging from games such as Metal Gear Solid, Resident Evil, Halo, and Guilty Gear to books such as R.A. Salvatore's Forgotten Realms books and the Star Wars books (especially the X-Wing series), to movies and television shows such as 24, The Last Samurai, Chronicles of Riddick, and Lord of the Rings.

So, here, at long last, I've started on my Final Fantasy VIII epic. Wish me luck on this little venture, and hold on tight: its going to be one hell of a ride, hopefully.

_Standard Issue Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII is the property of Squaresoft. All characters, locations, and concepts except for original creations belong to them._

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The Blood of the Chimera: A Final Fantasy VIII Novel

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Prologue: Meetings in the Twilight

His eyes roamed casually over the images, particles of light twisted and hardened into objects that hovered in the air. The flowing script was soothing, graceful, far superior to the blocky texts of the other nations. But then, that was always Esthar's advantage, wasn't it?

He scratched his chin, fingering the light goatee he had begun to grow on a whim a few days ago as he looked over the data. He reached a finger up and poked it into the hologram, and moved it, shifting the placement of the data icons within the screen. Several moments later, he opened two menus and scrolled through a folder, before finding the list of items he wanted. He double-tapped the selected folder and opened up the list of confidential files, intended exclusively for his eyes only. He selected the first file, and ran over the data with a slight smile. None of it was new, but he liked going over it, memorizing it. One could daresay he obsessed over it, but that was understandable, considering his position and his plans.

Bureau File Report # 33412

Name: Tilmitt, Selphie Mariana Avril

Age: 20

Height: 5' 1 ½"

Weight: 101 lbs.

Date of Birth: July 16, 3983

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Brown

Nationality/Ethnicity: Trabia/ Presumed Balambese

Profile: Currently a high-ranking SeeD of the Garden organization. Attached to Balamb Garden. Expert in wide range of magical manipulation skills such as magical enhancement, empowerment, duration extension, range modification, etc. Highly proficient in numerous combat support skills, such as demolitions, electronics intrusion and countermeasures, piloting, and operation of combat support vehicles, including tanks and long-range artillery. Current head pilot of Balamb Garden, has direct control and command over Estharian Ragnorok-class long range assault/transport vehicle.

While apparently frail and weak at first glance, the subject is extremely dangerous, especially if underestimated. Proficiency with wide range of combat skills and support skills renders her particularly dangerous if disregarded. Has significant political clout within both Balamb and Trabia Gardens, and marginal influence with Galbadia Garden. Traditional methods of control, such as hostage taking and terrorism, appear to have opposite the desired effect, making her especially aggressive. This can be used. However, individually, she is less of a threat that she is paired with allies.

Risk Assessment: B-

He nodded as he looked over the short, almost adorable girl in a traditional yellow sundress worn by most Trabians during the summer months. This picture was old, he knew, taken during the celebration three years ago. Such sloppy work. If they wanted up-to-date files, they had better keep good visual records of the subject. He opened the next file, already knowing that this one was directly connected to Tilmitt's.

Bureau File Report # 22712

Name: Kinneas, Irvine Victor

Age: 20

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 172 lbs

Date of Birth: November 24, 3983

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Brown

Nationality/Ethnicity: Galbadia/Galbadian

Profile: Ranking sharpshooter in Garden organization. High-ranking SeeD. Originally attached to Galbadia Garden, is now part of Balamb Garden's force. Has extensive expertise in firearms of all types. Extremely accurate as well, even with unusual or automatic weapons. However, adheres to Galbadia Garden ethos concerning magic and Guardian Forces and refuses to use them, thus making him nothing more than a mere human being. However, was directly involved with the "Ultimecia" incident and thus has proven his skills are not to be taken lightly.

Fancies himself a ladies' man, but is in fact romantically attached to Selphie Tilmitt. This can be used. Currently has significant political clout with Galbadia and Balamb Gardens. Combined with his personal skills with firearms, this makes him a valid threat, but not high on the priority list.

Threat Assessment: C

Ah, of course. The cowboy. The knight of the Wild West, bursting into Galbadian saloons and gunning down the bad guys in the black hats. Only this one wore a black hat himself. This picture was more recent. He was shown on the streets of Balamb, and part of Tilmitt could be seen as well. That annoyed the man; surely his agents could do better with their surveillance. He opened the next file.

Bureau File Report #23166

Name: Dincht, Zell Adam

Age: 20

Height: 5'5"

Weight: 211 lbs.

Date of Birth: March 17, 3983

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Balambese

Profile: Current master of hand-to-hand combat in Garden organization. Ranking SeeD. Specializes in hard fighting styles, wrestling, throws, and locks. Has exceptional strength, even for a SeeD; is capable of rending and damaging reinforced metal when junctioned. Uses strength as primary weapon; skills with magic are only average. Features unusual ability to bend time and attack at high speeds as his SeeD Limit Break technique.

Subject is extremely aggressive and hot-tempered. Will not hesitate to attack any threat, and is considered to be a loaded gun waiting to be pointed. However, presenting a distant threat to hostages or the Garden organization has been noted to give him pause and confusion. Highly unlikely to be manipulated beyond by brute force and direct threats. Best confused and then neutralized rather than directly manipulated. Physical prowess makes him extremely dangerous combatant in direct confrontation.

Threat assessment: A

The raging warrior, a brutal brawler who solves everything with his fists. The man nodded with the assessment. He was dangerous if left alone, but useful under the right circumstances. But it would indeed be best to just eliminate Dincht out of hand. The next file was of equal interest.

Bureau File Report # 34228

Name: Trepe, Quistis Miranda

Age: 21

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 136 lbs.

Date of Birth: October 4, 3982

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Presumed Dollet

Profile: Second in command of Balamb Garden and ranking SeeD in Garden organization. High-ranking political leader of the organization, directly responsible for academics programs, missions, and part of the elite Garden circle that makes the important decisions. Extensive political clout over Garden organization and, to some extent, within Galbadia, Dollet, Timber, and Esthar as well. Skilled in close quarters combat, but best with magic. Manipulates magical energies learned from study of monsters, known as Blue Magic.

As a high-ranking Garden official, subject is knowledgeable about world events, both overt and very covert. Closely tied with international intelligence community, with contacts extending even to this office. Notable tendency to doubt self; can be used to paralyze Garden operations if need be. Political connections very important, and can quickly bring power in Garden to bear on any threat.

Threat assessment: A

Ah. The beautiful and talented Quistis Trepe. Quite the lady, he knew. He had seen her before, especially in a speech she had made during one of the SeeD inaugurations last year. She was one to keep an eye on. Intelligent, sharp, cunning, and beautiful . . . His kind of woman. The next file was of particular interest, recently updated.

Bureau Report # 36349

Name: Almasy, Seifer

Age: 21

Height: 6' 2"

Weight: 172 lbs.

Date of Birth: December 22, 3982

Eye Color: Gray

Hair Color: Blonde

Nationality/Ethnicity: Dollet/Dollet

Profile: An exceptionally deadly swordsman, master of the gunblade. Until recently was a freelance mercenary for hire following acquittal by Estharian and Galbadian officials on grounds of insanity. Previously head of Galbadian military three years ago. Skills with magic and gunblade are ranked in the top 1 of all armed combatants; skill is nearly flawless. Makes extensive use of martial arts, magic, and dirty combat techniques in conjunction with melee skills, making him unpredictable and unconventional in combat. Right hand is cybernetic.

Extremely aggressive and arrogant, subject is prone to diving headlong into combat situations, relying on sheer luck and skill to survive. Experienced and skilled at commanding and inspiring men, and expert battlefield tactician. Known for daring and bravado in battle. Independent and non-conformist; excellent as a lone operative or wild card.

Subject is currently apprehended and being held in covert Iceblood prison complex in Trabia. High danger associated with the subject means that permanent neutralization is a priority. Execution scheduled within the next week. Until executed, still represents a critical threat.

Threat Assessment: A+

The legendary knight and wild card agent. He honestly liked Almasy, which was bad for the mercenary-turned-convict. He only liked people who he wanted dead, or working for him. And speaking of those types of people . . . .

Bureau File Report # 38457

Name: Heartilly, Rinoa

Age: 20

Height: 5' 3 ½"

Weight: 103 lbs.

Date of Birth: March 3, 3983

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Black

Nationality/Ethnicity: Galbadia/Galbadian

Profile: Currently the only known Sorceress in existence. Status is kept highly secret; only select members of world governments and Garden are aware of this. Attached to Balamb Garden as civilian employee, in charge of counseling and student relations, and has a part in negotiations. Moderately skilled in physical combat. Sorceress powers are steadily expanding, as is her control over them. Her magical prowess is not to be trifled with; subject is easily capable of inflicting widespread destruction with her powers.

Currently romantically attached to Garden Commander Squall Leonhart. Status as Sorceress only slightly strains relationship. Subject attempted to give birth to a child over two years ago, but child was stillborn. Unable to recover body for autopsy and analysis. Connections to Garden and national governments of Galbadia and Esthar make her political powers formidable, and her personal magical power as a Sorceress makes her even more formidable a threat. Treat with extreme caution.

Threat Assessment: S

Her. She was one of the keys, he knew. He would not ignore her, and in fact, she was critical. How else could he obtain true power without the aid of one who wielded the strength of a god?

And then, for the grand finale . . . .

Bureau Report # 27717

Name: Leonhart, Squall

Age: 20

Height: 5' 8"

Weight: 169 lbs.

Date of Birth: August 23, 3983

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Brown

Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Galbadian

Profile: Military commander of Balamb Garden. One of highest-ranking Garden officials. Has complete control over Garden military forces, with powers extending to all Gardens. Extensive political connections with Estharian, Galbadian, and Dollet national governments. Highly skilled with magic, and is considered to be the among the best swordsmen in the world. Close quarters combat skills unmatched. Proficient in wide range of vehicles, weapons, and firearms. Shows preternatural sense and awareness in battle, dubbed by some the "warrior incarnate." Direct relationship with Sorceress Rinoa makes him even more dangerous.

High degree of political connections and extreme combat prowess and power makes subject an extreme threat if tackled militarily. Has been known to defeat nearly any enemy he has faced in a direct engagement. Personal connections to world leaders gives him critical edge in military conflict, but also leaves him vulnerable to targeting hostages and terrorism. Combined political, personal, and combat prowess makes him an unmatched foe and extreme threat of the highest caliber.

Threat Assessment: S+

Him. One of the most dangerous men in the world, one could say. Leader of the deadliest military force on the planet, and considered to be the pinnacle of combat prowess at the tender age of twenty years old. Squall Leonhart. Son of the president of Esthar, leader of Garden, and close ally of Dollet and Galbadia. Such a man was not to be trifled with, at all, unless one knew precisely what they were doing.

But then again, the man mused, that was _his_ job, wasn't it? To know what to do, when, and how, with backup plans, contingencies, and everything else conceivably required for any operation right down to the sizes of everyone involved's underpants.

The plan had been laid out. Nearly fifteen years of recovery and preparation. Another ten years prior to that of setting everything up under Adel's rule and then hiding out when that damned Galbadian Loire showed up and conned everyone out of the Presidency. Billions of gil spent to plan everything, on research, on troops, on propaganda, on bribes and purchases and even the occasional SeeD mission to keep things under wraps (what a delicious irony, he mused, when he considered that). The subtle positioning, the back alley assassinations, the manipulation of members of the government, the slow placement of officers of his agencies where he needed them . . . Twenty-five years of work, about to reach its culmination over the next week.

Such exciting times. And for everything to work, he needed this man, Leonhart, out of the picture. So many reasons to remove him, ranging from the political to the personal (he wouldn't like his girlfriend being the main target in the operation, after all) . . . all the way down to the most very basic reasons. _Very_ basic, at the most simple building blocks of humankind.

"Brooding again?" came a call, from a dark, feminine voice. He looked up, smiling as he saw her walk in. No, walk wasn't the right word. _Slink._ She moved in with almost catlike grace and fluidity, moving across his darkened office like a shadow. He sat back in his chair, his grin wide.

"Its late, Illarra. Shouldn't you be off getting ready for your big day?"

"The plans are laid, everything is set," she replied casually walking closer to the light emitted from his holographic screen. "You should know that by now, _Father_."

The man frowned. He hated that word, in all honesty, and she knew it. For most people that word would have been spoken affectionately, but in her mouth "father" became a twisted insult to him, spat out with vindictiveness and a degree of disgust. So be it. He wasn't an angel, after all, and they both knew it. There were many things that drove the two to actually work together, but the one that was most important was . . . .

"Are you seriously ready to confront him?" he asked. "To speak to this man you both hardly know, yet know more intimately than any other human being?"

"I've been waiting for my whole life," she replied grimly, and by now he could see her features as she crossed into full view of the light. Beautiful, indeed, with full lips, a slender face, and brown hair, a shade darker than _his_worn in almost the exact same style. Her lightly-built but powerful body was covered in clothes mimicking him as well: leather jacket with white fur collar, black pants, black fingerless gloves, and heavy black boots, matching his current outfit of choice. Her eyes were a dark, piercing blue, exactly like his - deliberately surgically enhanced to be darker than they naturally were.

In fact, were it not for her slightly lighter build, narrower and more feminine face, and distinctly female attributes, it would be hard to distinguish her from the man on his holographic screen.

"I work with you because you can help me dispose of him," he explained. "And you work with me solely because I give you the resources and support to deal with this man. I've never met him before, and if what we are planning is pulled off I never want to meet him in the future, if you somehow let him live. I have no stake in you game beyond that it gets rid of Leonhart. As long as he dies, I'm happy. You understand this?"

"Yes, _Father,_" she replied, placing her hands on his desk. "And you must understand how hard it is for me to not gut you every time I see your face, if for no other reason than because seeing that face die will fill me with such satisfaction."

"I actually understand quite well," he replied, smiling and leaning back. "Its rather amusing seeing you struggle to retain your urges to kill me for my face. You want to kill him so badly you'd kill your own benefactor. Though the fact that I am your . . . father, so to speak . . . makes no difference to you, now does it?"

"None," she said, also smiling slightly. "But once I get done with him . . . you have no idea how much I want to hurt him. He's going to bleed and beg for mercy even before I lay a single cut into him."

"Yes, yes," the man replied, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want to be in his shoes once you start to tear into him. I understand such pent-up revenge desires. However, mine is with more than just Garden's Commander. Garden, the Loire administration, Cid Kramer, and Leonhart himself. You eliminate Leonhart and his bloodline, and let me have my revenge, and we'll all be very happy people by the end of the week."

"Because once he's dead," she responded, sneering. "There'll be no one who can stand against you."

"With one exception," answered the man, and Illarra nodded.

"Two, but the other one will be dead soon enough as well, if the guards can ever get around to killing him."

"Almasy is . . . stubborn," added the man, nodding to himself. "But he won't matter. In the end, none of it will matter once we deal with Leonhart and his Sorceress."

"Once _I_ deal with Squall," she growled, and he nodded.

"Anything else?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"No," she replied. "The crews are ready in Fisherman's Horizon and aboard the aircraft. We'll be ready to strike when the time comes."

"Make sure that you are," he replied. "We screw this up and the whole world will be after our heads."

She shrugged again, as if it hardly mattered, and turned, sliding across the room toward the exit. The door slid open and she stepped out of the room, as silent as she had entered.

The man behind the desk sighed and ran a head through his brown hair, then chuckled. What a chance he'd taken in investing in his 'daughter'.

He ran back over the files again, nodding with each one. The key players would have to be accounted for, and that would be handled soon enough, he promised to himself.

When war came, he would be ready to reap the benefits. Esthar would reign supreme, as it should, and none would stand in their way. Not Galbadia, not Dollet, not Loire, and not Garden, it Sorceress, or its cursed Commander.

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Laughter resounded in the pub on the west end of Clairmount Street, just north of the docks. Rock music sounded over the din of talking patrons, ranging from sailors to soldiers to policemen to criminals and everyone in between. There were toasts shouted in unison by groups of customers, drinking songs, and healthy bouts of laughter and amusement throughout the smoky, neon-lit pub at this early hour of the morning, before the sun had risen. Reggie's Bar and Grill had that tendency, and was one of the more popular haunts for many of Dollet's workers and sailors. 

Nonetheless, there was a degree of privacy in all the noise and the crowds, as two figures sitting off to the side in a sheltered booth wide enough for ten men proved. One was short, with a scruffy beard that seemed to blow in windy drafts all around him without there ever being a breeze, his eyes a peculiar shade of purple. He sipped a thick mug of strong ale as he talked quietly with his partner.

"Been a while since you've walked the earth, mate," he said with a grin. "Thought you'd retired." He took a swig of the ale as his partner smiled.

"One doesn't retire in our line of business," he replied smoothly, with a cultured accent reminiscent of ancient Dollet royalty.

He was handsome, with clear skin, a narrow jaw line, and a short, closely trimmed mustache and beard matching his deep brown hair color. His eyes were dark blue, and quite intelligent and perceptive, taking in all around him actively. Beneath a long black dress coat he wore an immaculate white dress shirt, buttoned and with a long red tie, the end of which flared out like a cross. Fingerless black gloves wreathed his slender, dexteritous hands, which were still perfect and unblemished despite his many, many years of active living.

"Not with Hyne on the loose," laughed the other man, grinning as he set his mug down. "So, you going to tell me why you've called me here? Been a quiet few years, by my reckoning, even with the wars and all going on. Hasn't been an inkling of a major conflict in months now."

"Ah, but, there was a disturbance," the cultured figure responded, gesturing with a finger as if to remind his companion. "Three years ago. In . . . what is it they call it now?"

"Esthar," the other man responded, nodding, his beard waving in the air as he did so. "Aye. Centered there, in the Lunatic Pandora, before they sank it again."

"Temporal compression," the cultured man whispered. "Nasty stuff."

"You smell our old friend at work in this?" asked the bearded man cautiously, and the other nodded, furrowing his brow. He reached up and scratched his chin as the bearded figure took another swig from his mug.

"Patience is the name of the game with eternal entities," the cultured man said after several moments. "But that makes sense, doesn't it? We of all people should know that. Yet, like any being, when we close in on our goals, we get more and more aggressive and urgent to succeed. Even we are not immune to that pull."

"You think our friend caused it?" asked the bearded man, and the cultured figure nodded once more. He sat back, thinking to himself. His companion drank from the mug several times before he spoke once again.

"The plan failed, obviously," he stated, and his friend nodded as he drank again. "Acting too quickly, and giving the denizens of this period time to act against them. I suppose she made a mistake, coming back to this time period, when one considers all the event horizons intersecting at this juncture of existence. Temporal compression simply won't work in the future anymore, and she knows this. Which means . . . She's got to come up with a new plan."

"Who'd've thought bringing about the end of the world would be so hard?" asked the bearded man, chuckling. "You'd think that what with humans having Sorcery it would have been destroyed ten times over by now . . . At least!"

"That is the key to her plan, to be certain," the cultured speaker said with a knowing smile. "Sorcery is the key to everything. And only humans are unstable enough to be used with it to cause wide-scale annihilation. Clearly her plan revolves around humans and Sorcery."

"Well, we know who the powerful Sorceress are right now," the bearded man said, setting down his mug. He held out a hand, ticking names off on his fingers. "There's Edea Kramer, but her power is diminished with her passing of her abilities. She's potent, but her power ain't what it was before the war, that's for certain. Adel Harbringer is dead. Veronica Anderson is unaccounted for, but we know she's holed up in Trabia somewhere. And then there's Rinoa Heartilly. She's got the majority of the powers focused on her right now. Edea's powers, Adel's, and if rumor has it right, Ultimecia's too. Half-dozen minor ones, but Rinoa and Veronica are the ones we need to worry about. Rinoa especially."

"Hmm," the cultured man murmured, looking off into the center of the pub, thinking to himself.

"What do you have in mind?" asked the bearded man, taking his mug in hand again.

"SeeD," whispered the cultured man. "I see event horizons springing from Garden and SeeD in many directions. Strongest from the ones in charge at the moment. The 'destined few,' so to speak. She'll have her eyes on them, if not already. There are many lines and paths to follow in the coming days. It would be easy to turn the world on its head if one pushed in the right spot, with the international peace conference coming at Fisherman's Horizon tomorrow."

"She don't want to turn the world on its head," the bearded man reminded his friend. "You know what she wants: the end. She almost pulled it off with time compression too."

"Its' easier to destroy the world in strife," replied the cultured man. "I have no idea what she intends. But I can stop it if I know where to push myself."

"You headin' out?" asked the bearded man, and the other figure nodded, standing up, his tall frame towering over the booth as he picked up a wide-brimmed black hat and plopped it on his head.

"Fisherman's Horizon,' he replied. "Garden awaits an appointment, and I would like to meet the guardian of the day before I tread there first."

"Always a stickler for tradition," replied the bearded man. He raised his mug in salute. "Take care, and call me if you need my help."

"Until then, Ramuh," responded the cultured man, bowing formally to his friend.

"Aye, until we meet again, Alucard."

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**A/N:** Like I said, its brand new, and has some ideas I'm really excited to get to working on. Its Foreshadow revamped, andI hope I can finish this story this time! Let me know what you think! 


	2. I: Guardians

_Chapter One: Guardians of the Day_

Moon light shone down through the open window, accompanied by the scent of the salty ocean air, which itself was chased by the gentle lapping of ocean waves. Silvery light played through the darkened room, providing most of the illumination for the chamber. Under normal lighting, the room would be a small but well-decorated living room of a small apartment, with a couple of doors leading off into a bedroom and a bathroom. There was an odd mix of both Spartan-style minimalism and homey decorations around the living area. The moonlight reflected off a few knick-knacks of the chamber, but the majority of the light fell across the center of the room, where a single shirtless figure sat.

His body was small but featured the sculpted and toned muscles of a career warrior. His hair draped down almost past his chin, well-maintained but left uncut by personal preference, and appeared to be the only thing unruly and uncontrolled about him. A short, closely trimmed brown beard and mustache marked his face, starting from halfway up his jaw line and running down to his chin. In the light, they appeared jet black. Black pants, loose trousers intended for sleeping, were the only clothes he wore tonight as he sat on the floor, legs crossed and looking down at what lay before him.

On one side was a scabbard, beside which lay a long, glittering gunblade. The blade itself was transparent, and shone with a cool blue light that cast its soft glow across the small apartment, lighting the chamber in its raw power. The edge was incredibly sharp and durable, and could chop through solid metal. It was perfected weapon, an instrument of death in its deadliest form, energy crystallized into a lethal cutting edge. The man lifted the weapon, looking into its shining edge, and admired the beauty and its potential for killing. After a moment, he set the weapon down and looked to his left, at a second sheath, beside which was another weapon.

It was polished metallic gunblade, marked by the image of a crouching lion atop its blade. The weapon was well-used, but still unblemished somehow despite all the war and bloodshed it had waded through in its working lifetime. The edge was still razor sharp and deadly. Slowly, the man lifted up the gunblade, reverently staring into the weapon and at its reflection. While the weapon on his right was an instrument of death made perfected, this weapon, the heavy gunblade that reflected his face so perfectly, designed for his own hands, and wielded throughout much of his combat career, was where his heart resided.

The two weapons had important places in his life. The metal gunblade he had designed for himself, and had wielded for most of his life, and had even scored his first human kill by. But the other gunblade had seen him through many challenges, and even more importantly, had been given to him as a gift from, of all people, a father asking his child for forgiveness.

Squall Leonhart looked down into the two weapons he carried with him in his life, the two blades that had truly defined his life, and considered that existence. On this night, like so many others, he thought and meditated on his purpose in life and his reason for existing.

Squall was not a regretful man. He had no reason to regret any turn he had taken in his life. He was far from alone, and had put part of his soul into another human, one who perfected his life and made him complete, filling a gap he had never realized was there. He and his comrades were alive, and Garden, under his military command, had assumed an important place in the world. He had risen from a single helpless child at a distant orphanage to standing in a place where he could play a critical role in the world, which he already had. By his hands had Ultimecia, the evil Sorceress who had ruined his world, been defeated as she had tried to destroy all of existence within time compression. He had come back from that in the arms of his love, and had returned to a world where everything had been righted.

Now, however, in this new world, Squall had found time to himself, where he was not worrying about his comrades or his safety, or trying to protect the world from a raw evil from beyond time. Now, he had quiet moments of peace and reflection, and as the last three years had passed, Squall had come to a realization.

His position demanded quite a bit of office work, but he often participated in missions, in a commanding and leading role. These missions he always looked forward to, refusing to bind himself to a desk and fill out forms all day long. He enjoyed the rush of battle, the pitting of his weapon against an enemy's. He enjoyed relaying commands and matching wits with his foes. He had never shied away from a battle and had often pushed himself, physically and mentally, in many tasks, going above and beyond what was required of him. It was in these moments that Squall Leonhart felt an odd sort of peace, and understanding of himself.

That itself was what interested the SeeD Commander as he sat cross-legged in his living room inside Balamb Garden's dorm complex, looking at his weapons and exploring what they meant to him and his life. He had heard stories of warriors who placed their honor into their weapons, who would literally fight to the death to protect their blades. Squall was not quite that close to his weapons, but he held them near and dear to his heart. They were like close companions, extensions of his own body, and the art of utilizing them was something that he sought to continue to perfect.

"Trouble sleeping?" came a soft voice from behind him, and Squall turned his head to look back over his shoulder at the door leading into the bedroom he shared with an intimately closer companion.

"No, Rinoa," he replied, shaking his head as he watched her step out from the doorway. Even at this late hour, Rinoa still seemed as beautiful as ever. Even without any makeup or grooming (which Squall often insisted she didn't need) Rinoa was still stunning. Her hair had grown out just as his had, draping down to the middle of her back, raven-black and featuring caramel highlights shooting through it. In the pale moonlight the gown she wore shined a cool blue-white, and her light skin took on an alabaster hue. Her dark brown eyes glittered in the illumination as she dropped down behind him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, draping both arms over his shoulders and resting her chin against his neck. She looked down at the weapons laying before him, and understood what he was thinking about. That was her gift, he knew; the ability to innately sense the thoughts of someone else, as if she had psychic powers linking her directly into another's mind.

"I've been thinking," he said after a few moments. "For most of my life I've been focused on one thing. All I've learned to do in my life is to fight and kill. And more importantly, those are the things I'm best at, and when I'm in combat or on a mission, I feel more alive then I do in normal life. I've just been wondering whether that was simply a product of my upbringing here in Garden or something more."

"Something more?" she asked, curiously, and he nodding, looking back to his weapons.

"A lot of kids around here have been with Garden since they were very young," Squall explained quietly. "But they don't seem much like me in terms of how they deal with stress or violence. I've seen kids who've been here as long as me crack in combat, but I . . . Its hard to say, but its like I enjoy combat. No, that's not right . . . ." Squall shook his head slightly. "I don't enjoy killing. But on the battlefield, I feel . . . Complete, somehow. Its like when I'm with you, but different, some way."

"Are you comparing me to a SeeD mission?" Rinoa asked, and she rapped the back of his head playfully. Squall managed a slight chuckle.

"It might be because of the way you were raised," Rinoa added after a few moments. "You lost Ellone at such a young age, and bottled it all up. Before you met me there was only one thing you cared about, and that was being a SeeD and completing the mission. Maybe this is part of it?"

"I don't know," Squall replied, shaking his head again. "This feels more innate, somehow. Its not a sense of happiness, as much as it is a sense of completion . . . Like I'm _meant_ to be fighting and killing." he turned his head, looking Rinoa in the eyes, only a scant couple of inches apart.

"Like I'm meant to be with you," he added, and she smiled. She moved her face forward a bit and kissed him on the nose.

"I think I'm far more important than any SeeD mission, in your eyes, at least," she added, and he nodded.

"You can guarantee that," Squall answered. He reached forward and picked up his weapons, sliding them into their sheaths one at a time. As soon as he finished, he reached up and put his hands over Rinoa's, and looked back at her again.

"Come on, Squall," she said quietly. "Its after midnight. This time of night is not your best hour for you to do most of your work."

"You said something different a couple nights ago around this time," Squall responded, and she smiled and rose. He followed a moment later as she stepped toward the bedroom.

"Now, Commander, that was a dramatically different situation," Rinoa replied as they moved into the bedroom. "For example, you weren't wearing pants then."

Squall managed a smile as he stepped over her robe, pooling on the floor. He took her hand and she led him inside.

"Well, I think we can remedy that difference," he answered.

* * *

Quistis leaned against the metal railing of the balcony, her gloved fingers keenly feeling the cool chill of the steel beneath her fingers. She looked up into the dark blue of the night sky, lit by the glimmering stars and the shining majesty of the moon, and pondered. Below her, stretching out before her, were the tall steel towers and reflective solar panels of Fisherman's Horizon, which at even this late hour was still fairly active. Below her stretched Balamb Garden, docked alongside the massive construction-rig-turned-city, and to her left, the blood-red hull of Galbadia Garden could be seen reflecting the moonlight as well. 

Two Gardens were stationed at Fisherman's Horizon, and a virtual army of SeeDs were present within the two flying academies and mercenary bases. She could see a dozen more ships docked all around Fisherman's Horizon, warships belonging to the navies of Galbadia and Dollet, already arriving to pave the way for the conference that would start soon in this city.

She sighed as she looked over them, and turned her eyes back up toward the stars. It had been three years since the Sorceress war had ended, with Garden triumphant. Ultimecia was defeated, Adel was dead, and the power-mad regime of Vinzer Deling in Galbadia was gone, replaced by the government of Acting-President Hibrom Caraway. There had been numerous promises made across international boundaries, between the Dollet Dukedom, Galbadian Republic, and Estharian Republic, promising to reconcile differences and form an international union to promote world peace. Garden had, under the unanimous approval of all three nations, been hired to serve as a highly skilled and neutral security force to protect the numerous delegates and world leaders who would be present for the conference, in addition to the defense added from the troops and ships from the participating nations. Things would soon calm down in the world, they all knew, and with level heads like Caraway and Laguna in charge, peace would be a reality after this conference.

Unfortunately, that was one thing that bothered Quistis Trepe, Chief of Garden Academics and Executive Commander of Balamb Garden. With the promise of peace, SeeD, as a mercenary group, would face a slimmer budget and fewer contracts . . . even with their new, evolving role of training security forces and acting as bodyguards and technical specialists instead of as a primarily strike or support force. There were rumors that Garden may end up integrated as a kind of international police force instead of a mercenary force serving the highest bidder, but some people in Garden were hesitant to embrace that position, because of the threat to Garden's independent nature. Quistis had always been one to view Garden's independence as a defining factor in its position in world politics.

She shook her head. Quistis knew she was likely worrying too much about this. The governments of Esthar, Galbadia, and Dollet knew that Garden worked best independently, but even now they were tied to all three nations in various ways. Military alliance with Dollet, and having high-ranking members of the organization personally related to the heads of Galbadia and Esthar had that effect. She had advised Squall and Cid, as well as Galbadia Garden Headmaster Martine Cayes and Trabia Garden Headmaster Gerrard Kerr, that this level of connection with the other nations was almost too close anyway. By tying themselves too closely to other nations, Garden could risk becoming trapped in their politics and lose autonomy. The others were considering her analysis and warnings, and had yet to commit.

Quistis' musings were interrupted as the door behind her, leading into the forested Training Center, opened with a loud clang, followed by some laughter. She glanced back, and saw a female SeeD and a male cadet the same age stepping through the door, holding hands and laughing. They stopped as soon as they saw Quistis, and both went to reflexive attention.

"At ease," she said after a moment, shaking her head and smiling slightly.

"Umm, sorry, ma'am," the SeeD said quickly as they both relaxed. "We didn't think anyone was out here-"

"Its alright," Quistis replied with a shake of her head. "I was just leaving. Make sure to lock the door behind you if you want to share something . . . Intimate." The couple nodded, and Quistis stepped past them, toward the door. She didn't bother telling them it against curfew to be out here talking, or doing other things. It wasn't official policy, but no one got in the way of letting the students have "free time" in the hidden balcony past the Training Center. The faculty understood that privacy was necessary, especially to relieve some of the pressure of everyday life as a student and mercenary.

Quistis moved into the humid, darkened jungle-like Training Center, inhaling the scents and the sounds of the contained environment. She kept her eyes open as she walked back through the jungle, and a finger on the coiled chain whip at her side. Even as she was watching, Quistis reflected back on the happy couple, and a thought hit her as she did so.

She didn't actually have anyone to call her own. For a long time, she had been very close, at least in her mind, to Squall, but he had always been so distant, if not outright hostile, towards anyone who tried to get close to him. She had tried her hardest to break him out of his shell, at first out of a simple desire to get him to open up. For some time she had actually thought she was in love with him, to some degree, but had cast it aside as Squall became a SeeD. Quistis had chosen to remain content with staying as a simple friend, or as close to a friend as she could be to him.

And then Rinoa had arrived in his life just afterward, and Quistis had watched her break through his defenses with that incredible empathetic gift of hers, virtually reading his mind and digging a place into his soul, earning a spot so close even he had not realized what she had become to him until he had almost lost her. In a way, Quistis was sad that Rinoa had succeeded where she had not, but she was also happy that Squall had found someone he could and would spend his lifetime with.

But that left Quistis all alone, with no one close to her. Well, she had the Trepies, but they were simply a bunch of kids who were too caught up with how "amazing" Quistis was to see the real person inside. Not to mention that a lot of them were growing up and going in other directions rather than idolizing their favorite Garden officer. And without them, Quistis really didn't have anyone truly close to her. She had friends, in her closest comrades, including Squall and Rinoa, but someone to fill in her life, a person she could really join with like Squall had with Rinoa, was missing.

Quistis heard a faint rustling in the trees behind her, and she spun, pulling her rante out in a single smooth motion, the chain whip falling into her hands, right hand gripping the handle and the left catching the weapon just beneath its curving blade. She eyed the location that the sound had come from, and tensed, ready to cut down the monster as it emerged.

"Such dense plant life," came a voice, speaking in a thick, cultured accent, and Quistis began to stand down as a man moved between two trees, brushing some branches off his black dress coat.

"It's a wonder you people can find the monsters you're supposed to kill here," he added with a smile as he saw Quistis. She quickly noted his immaculate clothes and closely shaved brown mustache and beard, as well as the smooth, dignified way the man walked across the small clearing they were in. He glanced at her weapon, which Quistis quickly lowered.

"Precautionary, and quick reflexes," the man commented, tapping his forehead with an index finger and nodding approvingly. "Most definitely a SeeD." Quistis nodded.

"Sorry about pulling a weapon on you," she replied. "Usually there's monsters running loose here, not people."

"I certainly understand," replied the gentleman with a smile. He regarded her for a moment, and nodded again. "Would you know where I can find a man named Squall? Squall Leonhart?"

"Who wants to know?" Quistis asked, a bit surprised that the man wanted to see Squall. _And what was he doing in the Training Center in the first place? How did he get into Garden, too?_ Alarm bells started going off in her head as she thought those questions.

"Ah, forgive me," the man replied, and he formally bowed, one arm moving across his stomach and the other rising and sweeping out wide. "My name is Alucard."

"What business do you have with Garden?" Quistis asked, and as Alucard rose, he chuckled. He had caught her tone, suddenly shifting from friendly to a bit more formal and authoritative.

"I merely seek him out," Alucard explained casually. "It is always customary for the king of the night to seek out the guardian of the day, in order to ask his permission before treading on that which he defends."

_King of the night? What is he talking about?_

"And, my dear, may I ask what your name is?" Alucard asked.

"Quistis Trepe," she replied, still trying to figure out Alucard's intentions. The man nodded suddenly in understanding, rubbing his chin as he considered her again.

"Ah, I see," he murmured. "I was seeking your commander because of his fame, but I know your name as well. The title of 'guardian of the day' can actually apply to a number of people . . . Among them yourself, my dear."

"So, what?" Quistis asked. "You want my permission to let you walk around in the daylight?"

"It is tradition to at least seek them out for permission," Alucard answered with a grin.

"Who are you, really?" Quistis asked, and the man chuckled.

"I'll give you an answer, but first, I want something," he replied.

"That being . . . ."

"A mere test of what a mortal like yourself can do," responded Alucard, and he suddenly seemed to simply appear before Quistis, an arm cutting across in a vicious hook aimed at her face. She ducked back and low, beneath his fist, and countered with a quick, powerful uppercut that smashed into his chin and launched him back a few feet. He seemed to right himself in midair and landed easily, and quickly clapped his hands.

"Excellent reaction time, and impressive physical power," Alucard said as Quistis raised her rante, dropping into a combat crouch. He circled around her, and she responded likewise, immediately aware that the man seemed to have suffered no ill effects from her punch. She was outfitted with Guardian Forces at the moment, and knew that a punch from her would knock a normal man silly. He seemed to have shrugged it off with a smile.

"Now, let's test your form," he continued, and shot forward again, inhumanly fast, spinning around into a smooth axe kick that slashed down at her. Quistis spun beneath the kick, which dropped past her, and came around with her whip snapping at Alucard. The man's foot touched the ground and he hopped back, before coming in with a speedy punch that blurred across the space between them. Quistis caught the punch by quickly sidestepping and spinning, dropping her left hand on the man's wrist and redirecting his momentum, sending Alucard into a spinning dive toward the dirt. He somehow managed to right himself in the air again, turning the throw into a somersault that ended with his standing straight and tall, grinning.

"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that," Alucard stated, pausing only to straighten his strange red tie slightly. "Now, footwork. If I step here-" he said, and shot forward, swinging around to her left with a spinning kick. Quistis stepped back and ducked low, beneath the kick, and came up with her whip snapping forward at his face. He clapped both hands before him, and actually caught the blade between his hands as it neared him, stopping it in midair. She blinked in surprise as he held the blade, and then the man released it.

"And now, if I step _here_-" he continued, and came around to her right with a thrusting punch with tremendous weight behind the attack. Quistis was already stepping around the attack as it came in, spinning around behind Alucard and striking with her whip again, aimed squarely at his back. He seemed to vanish, reappearing just outside her reach, and clapped once more.

"Very, very good!" he continued. "Most impressive, my dear! Most impressive! If all the SeeDs are like yourself, you are definitely worthy of your place in this world."

"Thanks, I think," Quistis responded, still confused by the attack. He had just been testing her, right? It would have seemed like he had been trying to kill her, if it weren't for his commentary throughout the brief battle. "Did I pass?"

"Oh, most certainly!" answered Alucard with a wide smile. "And now, you had a question for me, correct?"

"Yes," she replied, nodding. "Who are you? How did you get into Garden?"

"As for the second question, I have my ways," he replied. "And for the first, I am Alucard, but I suspect you wish to know my intentions and why I am capable of what I've been doing, yes? It is quite simple, when one researches the origins of that name. But I have already given you all the information I suspect you need to make the proper connections, my dear. If you are as bright as they say, then you can figure it out with no trouble at all."

With that, Alucard spun on his heels and started back the way he'd come, toward the Training Center's "secret area."

"Hold it!" she quickly ordered, but Alucard didn't stop, quickly vanishing in the trees. Quistis ran after him, and heard rustling ahead, as if he was moving through the foliage before her, moving directly toward the hidden area. She chased after him doggedly through the forest, until crashing through the verdant plant life on the other end, in the small clearing before the "secret area." Quistis quickly scanned the area for Alucard, and saw that the only way he could have gone from here without being seen was to go toward that door leading outside. She ran to the door and tried opening it, but the door was firmly locked. Quistis rapped on it loudly, and after a minute, which felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing both the SeeD and the cadet who had been outside, clothing and hair disheveled. It was obvious what they had been doing.

"Did a man pass through here?" she asked quickly, and both of them shook their heads.

"No, ma'am, the door was locked," the cadet responded. Quistis turned around and scanned the area, looking for any place Alucard might have gone to, but saw not even a trace of him. She shook her head and turned back.

"Sorry to bother you two," she explained, and then spun and strode away, still confused about the mysterious stranger.

_Who was that man? And what did he mean, about his name being the key to understanding who he was? And that whole "king of the night" thing . . . ._

* * *

"Morning, sir," came the usual greeting from the SeeD guard outside Garden's control center as Squall stepped off the elevator. Squall grunted and nodded, his usual reply to the guard, or really anyone else who called him "sir." The guard, a young, newly ordained SeeD, moved to open the doors, but the Garden Commander waved his hand, stopping the guard in place. He opened the door himself and stepped inside the command center. 

It had once been the Headmaster's office, but events during the Sorceress War had necessitated a change and some renovations. The center of the room featured a tall column that rose up to the top of the chamber, upon which was the command and control systems that piloted Garden. It had once been gunmetal gray, but the Headmaster had ordered it painted a creamy white color. All around that central column, the display cases that Cid had adorned his office with were replaced by rings of desks and computer monitors, and two dozen SeeDs and civilian employees were busily working. The left wall featured a large television screen that showed a map of Fisherman's Horizon, with important items of note marked, as well as a dozen smaller images neatly arrayed to the side, which showed information on other areas of the world. The right side of Cid's former office had been modified, the lower half of the wall having been removed and the nearby offices on that side converted into a large conference and briefing area, accessible from the control center. Above this, accessible through a spiraling staircase rising between them, was a pair of offices with shutters that could be opened to reveal the command center or closed for privacy.

The office on the right belonged to Squall. He had, naturally, refused to be given such an important place, preferring to have an office on the ground, but the Headmaster had insisted he use it, due to his importance in the Garden command structure. Squall had finally accepted a few weeks after the renovations were completed, and moved in there.

As soon as he stepped into Balamb Garden's nerve center, which resounded with the sounds of tapping keyboards, muted conversations, and phone calls, he spotted Xu cutting across the room, a binder of files in her hands. He sighed as she approached him, and knew he was going to have some desk work soon.

"Morning, Commander," she said, with her typical polite smile. He nodded back, a polite greeting for him, and glanced at her binder as she brought it up.

"These are the intelligence files you asked about," she explained. "All the data we have on the known terrorist groups that might try to disrupt today's conference."

"Thanks," he replied, hefting the binder. It was remarkably light, and he raised an eyebrow. "So few?"

"We cut out the ones that we know don't have the resources to attempt anything," she replied, and Squall nodded. "All the intel we could need regarding those groups that could attack is in there. We've already coordinated with Galbadian Intelligence and the Dollet Security Agency on this."

"What about the Estharian Bureau?" Squall asked, and Xu shook her head.

"They're dragging their feet, but they should have things ready by the time your . . . I mean, President Loire arrives." Squall nodded, showing no visible reaction to Xu's almost-slip.

"What's the status of our assigned escort?" Squall asked, and Xu nodded toward the screen and started walking toward it.

"The Ragnarok is en route to the Estharian train station now, and should be arriving soon. Zell and his team should be joining President Loire's escort on board the train, and two other _Ragnarok-class_ assault ships are on station to provide air escort until they reach FH's airspace, at which point we'll take over."

"Laguna is serious about commemorating the reopening of the Horizon Bridge," Squall commented as the map changed, to show the train station west of Esthar. While before, it had been a dilapidated set of old buildings, a new, modern train station had been built there.

"It's a big symbol of international peace," Xu replied with a shrug. "Two decades since its been shut down. President Caraway and Duke Haroldington are riding trains from Timber, along with Timber's representatives. Hopefully they'll all arrive on time in FH at the same moment. The press is dying to get pics of them all stepping off the trains at the same time and shaking hands."

"Public relations," Squall groaned, shaking his head. He hated dealing with the public. "And our other teams?"

"SeeD escorts are already with the other leaders at the Timber train station, along with a small army of Galbadian Rangers and Dollet Marines in the 125th. It'll be good to see the General again, won't it?"

Squall nodded halfheartedly, and glanced to the side as the door into the command center opened once more, and in stepped Quistis. She seemed a bit distracted, but quickly scanned the room and spotted Squall and Xu. He raised a hand and waved her over, before turning back to Xu.

"What about Irvine and Selphie?" he asked, and Xu nodded toward the screen again.

"They're riding to Esthar on the Ragnarok too, before it takes a swing north toward Trabia and drops them off in the Bika Snowfield with the Trabia Garden team waiting for them there. They should be on the ground in a few hours."

"I don't like the sound of that operation," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "I know that the locals are paying us a lot to have a team out there, but I don't like having SeeDs chasing 'demons' or whatever they've called that thing out there."

"You sound so formal, Squall," Quistis commented as she stopped beside him. "Its Irvine and Selphie, after all." Squall shrugged and nodded.

"That may be the problem," he added. "I don't like people I'm close to going off on wild Chocobo chases like this."

"Money is money," Xu replied with a shrug, and Squall nodded. He glanced back at Quistis, and noticed she was looking up toward the monitor, but her eyes were not focused on it.

"Something wrong?" he asked her, and it took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her.

"Oh, no," Quistis replied quickly. " I was just thinking for a moment. Can I talk to you privately?" Squall nodded and gestured toward his office. They moved across the room and up the spiral staircase, and stepped into Squall's workspace, a simple room with a neat desk, complete with monitor and several stacks of paper, well-organized but not precisely lined up.

"Yeah, what is it?" Squall asked as Quistis shut the door behind her.

"There was an intruder in Garden last night," she explained. "He was in the Training Center."

"He cause problems?" Squall asked quickly, obviously concerned, and Quistis shook her head.

"No. He said his name was Alucard, and he was looking for you."

"Did he say why?" Squall asked after a moment, and Quistis shrugged.

"Something about meeting the 'guardian of the day' so he could ask permission to walk in the light," she replied, obviously not understanding what he wanted. "Then, when he found out my name, he said I was a 'guardian' too, and attacked me."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Squall asked immediately, and she shook her head.

"It seemed he was just testing me, to see if I was good enough," she explained. "After he was done he told me that if I wanted to know who he was, I needed to look into his name. Then he ran off."

"That's rather . . . Strange," Squall said, shaking his head. "I don't understand his motives." Squall crossed his arms, thinking for a few moments, and then stepped over to his desk. He hit a button on the speaker phone, and a voice spoke up from one of the technicians below.

"_Andrews?"_ came the name of one of the SeeDs in Information Retrieval.

"This is Commander Leonhart," Squall spoke. "I need Information Retrieval to run a search on the name 'Alucard' and report back to me."

"_Yes sir, we'll get on it now,"_ came the immediate response. Squall cut the line and turned back to Quistis.

"We'll deal with this later," he continued. "Right now we need to focus on securing Fisherman's Horizon for the peace conference." She nodded, and they headed back out of the office and toward the main floor of Garden's nerve center to direct the defense of what would be the most important day in centuries.

* * *

"So, ya'll are on what Squall calls 'wild chocobo chases'?" Zell asked as he sat back in the comms chair of the bridge of the Ragnarok. Selphie, in the copilot's seat, nodded. 

"Aw, its not too bad," Irvine added from the gunner's seat with a shrug. "We needed someone who knew how to operate in Trabia, and Selphie came up top on the list, since all the other Trabian SeeDs at Balamb are out on operations."

"And you volunteered to tag along," Selphie added, leaning back in her chair and looking at Irvine upside down.

"Not going to let a lady walk around unescorted," Irvine said with a grin. "Especially you, Selphie."

"Oh, knock it off, you two," came a thickly accented comment from the pilot, an older SeeD named Mike, transferred from Galbadia Garden. Zell chuckled as both Irvine and Selphie sent surprised looks to the pilot. It was well known that both of them were an item within Garden. Before the final clash in compressed time, something had been happening between them, and during the fight against Ultimecia, Irvine had died. Then Selphie, before dying at Ultimecia's hands, had reacted with extreme violence at his death. After the incident with Ultimecia, both Irvine and Selphie had came back in the void across time, happily reunited. There were whispers in Garden that something was going on between them, but for some reason they had not committed to any kind of relationship, though this sparked scores of rumors. Zell, one of the closest friends to the pair, knew that they had not really gotten together, though he saw potential in both of them. There were sparks between them, like those between Squall and Rinoa before they had gotten together, but Zell hoped they wouldn't have to go through the same traumatic events that had marked _that_ relationship.

"Okay, you two," Zell added before anyone could get in another word. "What exactly is this mission you guys are on, anyway? No one told me anything about it."

"Nothing much," Irvine responded, stretching out. "Locals said that a demon child or something had been born in the town a couple of years back. The old folks taking care of it hid it in the woods so it would be safe from everyone who was scared of it. Now they're saying that the demon kid is back, and there's been people vanishing in the woods around where the kid is supposed to be staying."

"So, they called in SeeD to hunt some fairy tale kid and find missing hikers?" Mike commented incredulously.

"Hey, their money's green, isn't it?" Selphie responded. "So, we're going to drop in, meet up with a couple of people from Trabia Garden, and go into the woods and find this 'demon kid,' and figure out what's happened to the people out there."

"Hunting local legends in the forests," Zell muttered. "Sounds like a bad ghost story."

"Could be worse," Irvine added. "Might involve an old castle and a cackling witch."

"At least there's no Sorceresses involved," Selphie said. "And I'll get to see home again, too!"

"Big plus there," Irvine added. "Heard Trabia Garden's coming along pretty nicely these days. All the damage was repaired two years ago, and they've got this big influx of Estharian cadets, too."

"Too many," Selphie stated with a nod. "They've got far too many students to handle, and Trabia's too small."

"Yeah, I heard there was some planning in the big offices," Mike said. "Something about opening a new Garden in Esthar. I'd like to see that, with all that crazy Estharian technology and what have you. Speaking of which . . . ." Mike trailed off as the Ragnarok neared the Estharian coast, flying over what looked like a military base.

It wasn't, actually, but the sheer amount of personnel and military hardware around the train station on the western coast of Esthar was formidable and could deter a mid-sized military attack. No fewer than three full squadrons of sleek Estharian fighters flew overhead, and a pair of crimson-colored _Ragnarok_-class assault ships were parked around a train station that was newly built and waiting for passengers. The Ragnarok swept in, and immediately the Garden ship receiving landing coordinates direct from Estharian Air Control. Mike skillfully brought the Ragnarok around to the cleared area indicate don his map, and settled the airship in. The Ragnarok touched down without even a shudder of movement, and Mike lowered the ramp.

"Alrighty, Zell," he said, and the brawler nodded, hopping up onto his feet. "See ya in Fisherman's!"

"I'll be there, don't worry!" Zell stated, and he turned to his friends. "Selphie, Irvine, take care, alright? Good luck, and make it home safe!"

"Bye, Zell!" Selphie said, waving as the brawler hopped onto the elevator and descended to the lower levels of the Ragnarok's hangars. He stepped off and moved toward the ramp leading outside, and was met by a pair of SeeDs, one carrying an assault rifle in his hands and the other with a sheathed katana resting on his shoulder.

"Ready to move?" asked the SeeD with the rifle, a newcomer to the organization named Argus. Zell nodded.

"Easiest escort mission ever," remarked Lex, the other SeeD, and they stepped down the ramp and into the middle of the heavily defended train station. Almost immediately, a pair of Estharian soldiers jogged up to them and called to the SeeDs.

"Zell Dincht?" one of them asked, and Zell nodded. The soldier gestured toward the larger train station, painted in typical Estharian pastel blues. "This way, sir! The President is waiting for you!" The SeeDs and soldiers moved across the open area, Zell pausing only to wave to Mike as the Ragnarok retracted its landing gear and rose again into the sky. As it flew away, Zell and his team stepped inside the train station, and were immediately stopped by a full platoon of Estharian soldiers.

"I'm sorry, sir, we'll need to perform an inspection and get your clearance and IDs," the officer heading the platoon said, and Zell frowned.

"We have clearance already," Zell stated. "We're SeeDs from Garden."

"Like I said, I'm sorry, but-"

"Lieutenant, relax," came a response from behind the soldiers, and they turned, backing up and allowing a long-haired, slender man with a thin face, bright green eyes, and a wide smile step through. "I know Zell personally!"

"Laguna!" Zell said with a smile, and reached forward to shake the President's hand, albeit gently.

"Come on, this way," Laguna said, and gestured behind him toward the terminal that led to the train they'd be using. "Sorry about security. They're being real serious about today. But I know I can trust you guys. You saved the world, didn't you?"

"Hey, its no problem," Zell replied with a shrug as they moved through the terminal. They passed what looked like an army of reporters and cameramen, being held back by dutiful Estharian soldiers, and neared the rear car of the train. The vehicle was designed much like the trains in the west, with engines in both the front and rear cars, and with cars for large numbers of people, cabins for privacy, and separate cars for the VIPs, though these were at the center of the train. Laguna led them onto the train, threading their way among rows of seats and through narrow hallways along the cabins of the train, toward the central VIP car. As they walked past Estharian aides and soldiers, Laguna explained things to them.

"Yeah, this train, newly built, huh?" he said. "Specially made for Presidential or VIP trips. Really well-armored. Kiros and Ward didn't like the idea of me using a train, but I gotta commemorate the reopening of the Horizon Bridge, right? Its gonna be huge, you know. This whole conference is going to fix everything, and we'll finally have peace-"

Laguna opened the door into the VIP car as he was talking, which revealed a large, long room with couches, plush carpets, and fold-down beds. The interior was painted with traditional Estharian pastels and festooned with a variety of Estharian technologies and gadgets, some of which even Zell didn't know the mechanics of.

However, the rich appointments were not what struck Zell as he walked in, but who was waiting for him. She had let her brown hair grow out, dropping down to her mid-back, and was wearing more traditional Estharian robes, but Zell still recognized her right off the bat.

"Hey, Ellone!" Zell said in surprise and happiness as he saw his old friend from the orphanage, sitting at one of the couches. She rose, laughing as she did so, and Zell pulled her into a big bear hug.

"Its good to see you," she said as she hugged him back. Zell actually lifted her up off the ground before setting her back to the floor.

"I didn't know you were riding with Laguna," Zell said, and she nodded.

"I wanted to come with him to the conference," she replied. "I was hoping I could see Squall and the others, too. I didn't know you were going to be SeeD's escort!"

"Well, hey, here I am," Zell replied with a grin. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "This is Lex and Argus. My backup."

"Pleased to meet you," she said to them, and the two SeeDs nodded.

"And while you guys are SeeD's support for this trip," Laguna added, stepping in beside them. "I picked up a couple of my own bodyguards." Laguna nodded toward the other end of the train car, and Zell was surprised to see who was standing there. One was huge and hulking, especially with the heavy armor he wore, and the other was slender and petite, with one eye covered by a decorative eye patch.

"Whoa! Fujin? Raijin?" he asked, and the brother-and-sister pair nodded at the same moment. Zell looked them over, surprised by their obvious changes in gear since he'd last seen them, during the invasion of the Lunatic Pandora years ago. Fujin still wore her traditional blue coat, dark pants, and boots, but beneath the coat, she wore what looked like a suit of body-adhering Estharian armor, judging by the silvery material that poked over her collar and around her wrists. She wore a trio of chakrams, bladed rings with elegant and deadly spikes on them, and on her back she wore a new weapon, a composite, molded longbow with Estharian technology worked into it. On her belt opposite her chakrams she wore two secured, covered pouches loaded with arrows, outfitted with feathers of varied colors.

Raijin, on the other hand, had fully equipped himself with Estharian powered armor, bulky insectile gear that covered his torso and legs, over which he wore his usual vest and big, beaded necklace. Aside from the heavy _bo_ staff that was his normal weapon, Raijin wore a pair of heavy gauntlets, complete with knuckle-dusters. Zell seemed a bit surprised with this. Maybe Raijin had taken a lesson from the brawler, he thought with amusement.

"What are you guys doing here?" Zell asked, and Fujin nodded toward Laguna, who was talking with one of his aides.

"LISTEN," she advised him in her usual direct, loud, emphatic manner.

"Yeah," Raijin replied, nodding toward the President. "Laguna says we're his bodyguards, ya know, and he means it."

"When did you guys join up with Laguna?" Zell asked, and Raijin chuckled.

"Been with him for a bit, ya know," Raijin explained. "We were with Seifer for a while, freelance mercenary work and all that, but he disappeared a few months back, just after we got a contract with Laguna to be his bodyguards."

"WORRIED," Fujin added, but Raijin shook his head.

"I keep sayin' we shouldn't be worrying about Seifer," he boomed. "He can take care of himself, ya know." Fujin didn't immediately answer, and Zell could tell she was worried about Seifer . . . Though in all honesty Zell couldn't care less about that crazy bastard.

"Okay, people," Laguna cut in, turning back to the group. "We're about to get underway, so we should settle in. It'll be a few hours until we get to Fisherman's, so let's get comfy, eh?"

* * *

The guard on duty watched the last two Estharian technicians as they pushed a hovering crate into the main cargo bay of the _Raptor_, one of President Loire's two escort Ragnarok aircraft. They locked the hovering crate in place using a gravity tether, and one tapped a button on a gauntlet on his wrist. A holographic display popped up, and he hit one of the keys, setting the red symbol to green. 

"Okay, that's the last one," he said, to his comrade, who nodded.

"Good job," added the soldier standing in the bay, nodding as he looked over the two dozen or so crates, labeled as weapons and supply containers. "With this stuff on board we can finally get moving."

"So, anyone say why they needed these containers?" asked one of the techs, and the soldier shrugged.

"Orders came from high up," commented the other tech. "But hey, if the boss says put the crates on the ship, put the crates on the ship. Does seem weird that they'd put transport crates on an escort ship, though."

"Yeah, I know," added the soldier. He pulled up a holographic display on one of the wall panels, and waved the two technicians over as the hangar doors slid shut. The _Raptor's_ engines started up, and a low thrum filled the deck of the hangar as the ship lifted off. They felt a slight push backward as the aircraft began moving, and then stopped next to the soldier as he looked over the panel.

"I need you guys to help me check something real quick," the soldier said, looking at the panel intently.

"Yeah, what is it?" asked one of the two, and the soldier stepped back, gesturing toward the display.

"Have a look," he said, and the two men stepped forward as requested, and glanced over the display.

In that instant, the soldier who had asked them to look stepped around behind them and, unseen, drew a silenced pistol. He leveled it at the back of the right-hand man's head and fired, and before the left technician could even react, he took a bullet into the back of his head as well. Both soldiers toppled to the floor. Their murderer glanced down at the corpses casually, and pressed a hand to the side of his helmet.

"Simmons," he said coldly. "Hangar secured. Standing by to open the packages."

"_Copy that,"_ came the reply over his radio, a cool, feminine voice. _"Execute the assault in in exactly twenty minutes from . . . _now."

"Understood, Illarra," Simmons replied, and tapped a button on his wrist, activating the countdown clock. He walked over to the crates and tapped one.

"Stay hidden," he ordered over his radio. "We go in nineteen minutes."

There was no response, and none was needed. The cyborgs inside the crates knew their objective, and would carry it out with a ruthless efficiency that marked Esthar's special forces units. Simmons crossed the room and tapped the holographic panel again, switching to the view from the belly camera of the _Raptor_. Below, running smoothly along the tracks of the Horizon Bridge, was President Laguna Loire's train. Simmons grinned underneath his helmet and hid his weapon, before moving to hide the bodies. He would be ready when the time came.

In nineteen minutes, the first shots of the new world war would begin.

* * *

-

* * *

Hoo-rah! Settin' up to be a good ol' party tonight! A few notes to be made here:

Some references are in here. Notably the Hellsing/Castlevania reference with Alucard, and the Resident Evil 4 reference with the pilot named Mike. The Galbadian accent in this story is essentially a New York/New Jersey-style accent, and Mike in RE4 has one as well. Mike and Zell's SeeD companions will be more important than your normal everyday red-shirted crewman. There's a pile of Guilty Gear references, too.

Shout-out time! Review and ye shall be respondedinatizized!

DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Only in name, and maybe in abilities, but not precisely in personality. He's much more based off Slayer from Guilty Gear. He even has Slayer's moves!

Oh, and I'm not going to give any spoilers away about this story. Ultimecia will have an effect here, trust me.

Squall, Rinoa, and Seifer don't have middle names because I couldn't think of any that would work properly.

Jade Almasy: I could swear that they were gray. Hm. Maybe I need to go back and check . . . .

Kolostraminindincranin: Oh, yes, there are clues abounding! I might be interested in seeing your Baldur's Gate novelization.

Prodigy: I made up the dates myself, based off Centra established 4000 years previously and building off that as the important point in the calendar. And its Saturday and I see no new chapter. Hurry! Speaking of which, I need to review your work too.

E: Its not a crossover. The characters will have similar attributes in some cases to characters from other sources, most notably Guilty Gear, as well as personalities of such, but will be original characters for the most part.

Icedragon6171: I've planned this story out well, and I'm really excited to work on it!

Solid Shark: Hellsing and Castlevania, yep. :D

Rusty Knights Productions: Well, here's more. Enjoy!

Elachim: Yeah, my prologues are always long, you know? Oops, I need to change that.

S ranking is . . . Okay, the profiles were basically based off Guilty Gear XX's profiles in Story Mode, which included vital stats, a profile, and a threat assessment. The highest threats were names "S" rank (given to people like Sol, Slayer, Dizzy, etc)

Thanks for the grammar suggestions. I can always use them! And I have no trouble with what you did. I can't stop you, so why bother? Not that I mind anyway, myself. I like it when people do that kind of stuff. Let me clean out my inbox and I might take that edited copy!

BahamuUltima: Not a sequel to FFVIII, but definitely a sequel to Gunblade!

That everyone? Good. Now, back to work.

Till next chapter . . . .


	3. II: Impend

Chapter 2: Impend

The elevator leading to the lower levels whirred and rose, and Captain Jorgen of the _Ragnarok-class_ assault airship _Raptor_ knew one of the crewmen down below was coming up. He knew that the crew below would use the intercom if they needed to perform normal communications, so whatever the reason that the crewmember below was using to rise up, it was serious.

The Captain, sitting in the copilot's seat, looked back over his shoulder as the lift rose, and saw, standing on it, was a soldier in white armor, an Estharian regular. The man steppe doff the lift, and the Captain rose from his seat, not disturbing the comms operator, gunner, or pilot.

"What's happening?" he asked, and the soldier saluted. Jorgen frown, confused. While it was acceptable to salute a superior, the man didn't need to do it on the bridge of an airship, especially if matters were pressing.

"Sir, Private Simmons, with urgent new orders."

"Orders?" Jorgen asked, confused again. "Why weren't these orders sent to me?"

"Because they were meant for me alone," Simmons responded. "They asked me to relieve you from command." And with that, Simmons raised a black, silenced pistol, a western-style projectile firearm, and shot the Captain between the eyes twice. Jorgen fell back, and Simmons pivoted, putting two into the comms operator and whirling on the gunner as he rose, grabbing for his sidearm. One bullet punched through the man's chest, and another penetrated his throat. The gunner fell back into his seat, eyes wide in shock and pain, as Simmons put a third shot into his face.

The pilot had required a moment to react, as he needed an instant to switch the ship over to autopilot or risk a fatal crash. He spun out of his seat, grabbing and leveling his sidearm, when Simmons whirled to face the man. A bolt of green energy from the pilot's plasma pistol lanced out and struck Simmons in the chest, but was simply absorbed by a watery shield around the man's body. The pilot's eyes widened as he realized Simmons had personal energy shielding, and then died as the traitor put a shot into his left eye.

Simmons walked over to the dead pilot and casually pulled the corpse from his chair, dropping him into the center of the bridge, and sat down, putting his feet up on the console. The flyer had been kind enough to turn on the autopilot for him, making the next couple of minutes a breeze as Simmons waited for his watch to beep.

Three minutes later, the watch beeped, and Simmons sat forward. He tapped a couple of keys on the pilot's control console, pulling the comms controls over to his station, and typed in an encryption key. He opened the encrypted channel, and sent a single message.

"Operation Impend is go."

This was followed by bringing the controls for the missile launchers also over to his piloting station. Simmons glanced out the left hand window at the escort Ragnarok on the other side of the President's train, and fractionally slowed his speed. He began to drift back, and typed in a targeting solution that locked onto the other _Ragnarok-class_ ship.

_"Raptor, you are falling out of formation,"_ a call came in over the comms, and Simmons smiled. He reopened the comms channel a moment later as he caught a light on the operations panel, indicating that the hangar doors were opening up. The other Ragnarok, staying in defensive position over the President's train, was getting ahead of him now. Perfect; he was in an excellent firing position.

_"Raptor, respond. Captain Jorgen, what's wrong? You are out of formation."_

"Captain Jorgen can't come to the phone right now, he is currently occupied with . . . Being dead!" Simmons answered sweetly over the comms line. In the ensuing confusion on the other end, Simons tapped a key on his holographic display, the light that would trigger the missile launchers. A dozen dull thumps resound through the hull of his ship, and an equal number of glowing, red-streaking missiles erupted from the wings of the _Raptor's_ hidden missile bays, directly toward the other airship.

* * *

"So, the battery ran out, right as they were about to kiss," Laguna said, and shook his head, laughing. "Wow. They never told me about that one."

"Selphie actually ran out and shouted 'CUT!' and asked them to do it again for the camera," Zell continued, grinning. "I think Squall was more embarrassed than he'd been in his whole life. I'm not sure what happened after that, but he and Rinoa hightailed it out of the ballroom so we wouldn't film any more of their private moments together."

"I'm glad to hear they're still together," Ellone added, sitting back on the couch. with the exception of Lex, who had gone to the dining car for a drink, Laguna's hired bodyguards were all seated around the President and his adopted daughter as they were talking.

"Oh, yeah," Zell said with a nod. "Its like they're still just getting back from the flower field, all the time. You should have been there, too, when Rinoa pulled him out of time. It was simply amazing. We were all watching it from the orphanage, and then, all of a sudden, whoosh!" Zell stood up, waving his arms in the air. "All the storm clouds just fly away, and Squall and Rinoa are out there in the field, laughing and hugging. Never seen anything like it."

"Reminds me of how Raine and I acted after we got engaged," Laguna said after a moment, a bit wistfully. There were a fe moments of silence in the car, and then Raijin spoke up.

"Hey, I was wondering something," he asked. "I know Fujin's gonna slap me for not payin' attention, but who came up with this whole peace conference thing?" Fujin made as if she was going to strike Raijin, and her brother recoiled for a moment. However, she didn't follow through, and after a second, Raijin laughed nervously.

"Actually, believe it or not, the Headmaster of Galbadia Garden first suggested we meet at Fisherman's Horizon,' Laguna explained. "He sent a general message out to everyone involved, asking about the potential to get our leaders together to deal with pressing international problems like extremist terrorists in Galbadia and the monster problem here in Esthar. There was some squabbling between Galbadia and Dollet over how much territory Dollet was going to get back in the agreements made two years ago. The representatives in Timber need to discuss their independence as well. There's a thousand other little issues that need to be talked about. We really haven't had time to discuss things over the last few years, and I think its great that we finally agreed to meet like this."

"Yeah, though it might make work for people like us harder, ya know?" Raijin added, and Laguna laughed.

"Trust me, there'll always be a need for people like you guys," Laguna responded, looking to his hired bodyguards.

Any response was cut off as a shudder ran through the train, accompanied by a tremendous roar above the train. An instant later, there were a hundred pings on the outside of the train's hull, as if it were being rained by shards of metal. Fujin whirled and slapped a button on the wall.

"REPORT!" she shouted.

_"Ma'am, airship Razor was just fired upon by the Raptor!"_ came the response over the intercom from the engine car._ "We don't-"_ The next words were cut off by the sounds of explosions and glass shattering, and sudden screams and the whine of plasma weapons' fire.

An instant later, the windows around the Presidential car exploded inward, hurling a thousand shards of glass around the interior of the car. Everyone ducked and shielded their eyes with their arms as a quintet of black-clad figures swept down from the outside roof of the car and into the room. They were equipped with jet-black body armor, and were outfitted like Estharian soldiers, but without helmets, which were replaced by visors over their eyes and shaved heads with barcodes running along their necks. Bulbous implants were attached to their necks and running down into their armor, and from behind the tinted visors their eyes glowed an ominous blue. They brandished plasma rifles and shotaxes and moved to the attack the moment their feet touched the floor.

However, that instant between the report and this sudden assault was all a SeeD-trained warrior needed to react. The instant between the attack and their enemies' touching down was all the SeeD-trained warriors needed to set their defenses. And the instant the cyborg commandos needed to move to the attack was all the SeeD-trained warriors needed to retaliate.

In less than a second, Zell spun towards his nearest foe, roaring a battle-cry as he sent a blindingly fats cross into his target's head, a smash that sent the cyborg spinning to the floor, visor shattered. Its neck was twisted at a very unhealthy angle, and its reinforced skull was blasted inward, its face crushed under the blow.

In an instant, Argus snapped up his rifle and sent a three-round-burst into the throat and mouth of a cyborg directly in front of him, snapping the commando's head back and sending it to the ground, dead instantly.

In a moment, Fujin yanked a chakram off her belt and sent it spinning into the throat of a third cyborg, severing its head with a flick of her wrist. The weapon imbedded itself in the far wall, and the head rolled away as the cyborg toppled to the floor.

And in the twinkling of an eye, Raijin snapped both hands up and stopped two rushing cyborgs cold, closing his meaty hands around their throats. With a single tremendous heave, he spun and hurled both of them out the window they'd come in from, past the train and into the sea far beyond and below.

Laguna, who had been reaching for his sidearm in the desk beside one of the couches, was momentarily shocked at the incredibly fast response that had just occurred. He numbly grabbed the weapon, a heavy .50 magnum, and turned around, amazed to see three instant corpses and four bodyguards, all on instant alert. Argus was already shielding Ellone, while Fujin, Raijin, and Zell were moving toward the doors. It took Laguna a second to realize what he heard outside, and he quickly flicked the safety off the handgun.

"What the hell's going on?" he shouted as he heard the sounds of screams, gunfire, and the clashing of metal through both doorways.

"An attack on the train!" Zell and Raijin said at the same time.

"ASSASSINS," Fujin stated.

"Get Security!" Laguna ordered, but an instant later one of the doors flew open. Raijin and Fujin moved to attack, but stood down as two men in the blue robes of Presidential Escort agentsrushed in, both wielding plasma pistols and one with burn marks on his robe.

"Mr. President!" one shouted. "We're under attack! They're in all the cars, the entire train!" Plasma exploded and flared off the doorway behind the two agents, and everyone inside the train ducked out of the line of fire. Beyond the two men, there were a dozen soldiers and agents trading fire in the car ahead with the black-clad invaders.

"SAFETY!" Fujin ordered quickly.

"Where?" Argus asked, covering his doorway. "Where do we go?"

"Engine car," Laguna quickly ordered, and Zell nodded immediately.

"Get to the front, detach the rear cars, and hightail it to FH," Zell said.

"Engine car also has radios," Laguna added. "We can call for help from Esthar, Garden, Ragnarok-"

"Incoming!" came a shout from one of the agents inside the car, and two more black-clad figures dropped in through the windows, brandishing blades. A chakram and three bolts of plasma cut one down while a stream of hot metal and several devastating slugs from Zell and Raijin dropped the other into a twisted heap. As they fell, the door to the rear car flew open, and a pair of soldiers, one bleeding badly from a slash across his chest, stumble in.

"Sir, they've breached the rear cars," one shouted urgently. "They're moving up fast!"

"How many?" Laguna demanded, and the soldier who spoke shook his head.

"Two dozen, maybe more."

"Same numbers up ahead," added one of the agents quickly. "Sir, we have to get you to safety!"

"I'm not leaving my people if I can!" Laguna replied. "I've got aides and soldiers in the rear cars, and we can't abandon them."

"I'll go get them!" Zell quickly volunteered. Argus nodded.

"I'm with you, Zell," the other SeeD said. Zell nodded toward Fujin and Raijin.

"You guys keep the President safe and get him to the front. We'll evac the survivors in the rear cars, and then cut the couplings!" Raijin and Fujin nodded, and then the two SeeDs turned. The wounded soldiers quickly joined them, surprisingly, as they moved to the rear door.

"Our squad is back there," the other soldier muttered. "We're not leaving our brothers behind."

"Damn straight," Zell said with a grim nod, and they burst through the rear doors, moving to the back of the train. As they did so, Laguna moved to one of the walls of the car and waved a hand over it. A panel slid up, revealing a rack of four blue, claw-like rifles, their front-ends glowing. He removed two of them and tossed them to his agents, and grabbed a third. Then, to his surprise, Ellone moved between Laguna and the wall and grabbed the fourth one.

"Elle," Laguna began to protest, but she quickly shook her head.

"No time," she replied, hefting the rifle. She'd taken self-defense courses after what had happened to her three years ago, and she was a fine shot, trained by Laguna himself. She could hold her own, but she had never been in a real firefight before . . . .

There wasn't time. Laguna heard a man in the car beyond die at the end of a plasma bolt, a scream of pain as energy sizzled into him, and he turned back toward his guards.

"Move, move!" he shouted, and Raijin whirled, Fujin throwing a defensive spell over him, creating a multicolored barrier over her brother, who rushed through the doorway and toward the next car, the others following him into the fray, driving into the middle of the hellish maelstrom the unknown assassins had suddenly brought to bear.

* * *

The attack was underway, and Simmons sat back in his chair, feet propped up, watching the explosions below. His fifty-cyborg-strong force had rappelled down from the open hangar doors of his ship and onto the roof of the train as he had been pummeling the _Razor_ with Estharian Pyromancer missiles, the anti-air projectiles ripping apart the loyalist ship. It wasn't destroyed, he knew, but was rapidly falling back, its engines burning from the impact of the missiles, and soon it would crash. It had already fallen below and behind his ship as he sat there, whistling a tune and watching his men go to work.

_"Simmons," _a cool, yet demanding, female voice suddenly cut in over the comm, and Simmons sat forward, abruptly alert and at attention._ "Status?"_

"Oh, yeah, uh," Simmons responded, swallowing. He _hated_ talking with Illarra. He glanced down at the screen he had quickly brought up on the airship's computer display panel, showing the image from the sensors. Within the train there were hundreds of flares of heat and flying plasma, and over a hundred bodies entangled in a vicious battle all across the vehicle.

"Well, the team is down and has started the assault," Simmons reported. "They're doing pretty well. No reports yet on whether they've gotten the package . . . But two of the delivery boys are reporting that their own packages are delivered. That noisy fly was swatted out of the sky, too, andwe took outtheir comms so they can't call for help. The President's all alone out here. No one can save him now."

_"Make sure we have the package we need from the train. Its more important than killing President Loire. Emphasize this to your men."_ Simmons frowned at the force and aggression in that order.

"Don't worry, I've already told them. These guys are pros. Your dad picked 'em properly. They've got everything under control."

_"They had better,"_ Illarra snarled on the other end, and Simmons' blood ran cold as he heard her tone. _"Otherwise I'll mount your head on the front of our new airship. Ensure the package is seized."_ Simmons opened his mouth to reply, but the line was cut off instantly. He settled back into his seat, and then managed a chuckle. Dealing with Illarra was always like that. Damn murder-crazed fanatics . . .

Simmons glanced back at the sensors, and shook his head. The situation was well in hand. Fifty elite commando cyborgs against an equal number of regular human soldiers and Presidential Escort agents, and a few hired bodyguards. Half of the defenders were already dead, cut down in the first few moments. They had the advantage of surprise, and zero chance for reinforcements with the comms out and the other airship shot down. This battle would be over in minutes.

With that in mind, Simons sat back into his chair again, and relaxed. _Easy money._

* * *

The shotaxe shot forward in an overhead cleave, arcing at Lex's head. The SeeD hopped a step back, watching his opponent, waiting. He gripped his katana's handle in his right hand, and the sheath in his left, held close to his waist. The cyborg assaulting him retracted the slashing blade swiftly, with the mechanical precision and strength that marked its type, and came in again with an arcing chop at the SeeD's face. Lex dropped below the cut easily, and saw an opening in that moment.

Now!

His hand closed tightly around the handle of his katana, and, in the blink of an eye, the weapon shot out, flashing across in front of him. The cyborg, retracting its arms for another chop, instantly toppled to the floor, a single clean cut bisecting it at the waist. In an instant, Lex had spun, taking in the rest of the car as he smoothly returned his sword to its sheath.

As he had squared off against his opponent, the rest of the soldiers and Presidential Escort agents were engaging in combat with the cyborg commandos that had suddenly burst in through the windows. Acrid smoke filled the air as plasma ripped back and forth across to dining car. A dozen corpses lay on the floor as men shouted and fought, and Lex heard a man scream as a cyborg cut him down.

At least here the soldiers were putting up a decent fight, Lex realized as he turned to face another cyborg. He ducked down behind one of the tables, kicking it over and hearing the sizzle of plasma biting into the wood before him. Lex had seen something moving near the window, and had spotted the stun grenades they were using to detonate the windows, and had managed to shout a warning a second before the glass had shattered and the assault had begun. Moving fast, Lex darted around the table and leapt at his attacker. The cyborg spun, tracking the SeeD as he neared one of the walls and jumped up, his sheer speed and strength letting him hit the wall with enough momentum to run along it for a few steps before he kicked off. The SeeD flipped off the wall and landed beside the cyborg as it turned, and his katana flashed out, severing the commando's head.

Lex skittered to the side, ducking behind another table as return fore chased him. The surviving soldiers and agents, a half-dozen men against an equal number of cyborgs, rapidly traded fire with the enemy from behind whatever cover they could find. Lex started to move out, but plasma sizzled past the SeeD, and he ducked back. More fire struck around him, and he knew he was pinned down. They didn't have time to stay here, because sooner or later the enemy would overwhelm other cars less fortunate than this one and join this battle. The few civilians in this vehicle were already dead, brutally massacred, and Lex knew they could expect no mercy from their enemies. He clenched his fist and focused, calling up magical energies from within him.

Then, as Lex was preparing to step out and unleash bolts of energy, the door leading toward the rear of the train burst open. A projectile flew past, what looked like an arrow, and it dug into a cyborg's shoulder. An instant later, an explosion, like a low-powered grenade, sounded from the struck target, and the cyborg's arm was blasted off, sending the commando spinning to the floor.

A stream of blazing plasma cut past Lex and struck down another cyborg as a force of several soldiers and Escort agents rushed in, many bleeding from wounds or with uniforms blackened by plasma burns. A huge, burly form blasted through the opening, rushing straight toward the standing commandos, swinging a heavy _bo_ staff. Plasma struck him, but bounced off a defensive shield cast before the huge man.

Raijin crashed into one of the cyborgs, smashing his staff down atop its head and crushing the commando to the floor. He whirled, striking out with the staff, and the weapon impacted with another of the enemy commandos, launching it off its feet and hurling it to impact hard against one of the train walls. A chakram whipped past the huge warrior, aimed at a cyborgs head, but the commando raised its weapon and deflected the spinning disc aside. However, in the instant Lex had been bought, he had dashed forward, katana leaping from his sheath in another _iaido_ strike. The cybernetic commando was bisected from left hip to right shoulder.

Plasma fire ripped across the room, striking down those cyborgs still standing, sending them hard to the deck with sizzling, molten skin, and just like that, the brief battle for this car was over.

"President!" Lex said quickly as he spotted Laguna Loire among the reinforcements, wielding a smoking plasma rifle. Beside him was Ellone, her face full of the fear, shock, and exhilaration of a person who had just survived their first firefight. "Sir, we have to-"

"We're moving forward!" Laguna quickly ordered his en and guards. In the train. "We have to secure the engine car and call for help!"

"What about Zell and Argus?" Lex asked as Fujin and Raijin rushed to the other end of the car, covering the doorway.

"They're evacuating the rest of my staff from the rear cars," Laguna said quickly. "We have to get to the front so we can detach the rear cars and call for help!"

Lex nodded, and spun toward the other door. As he came around, the door flew open, and two soldiers rushed in, chased by plasma fire. One man was cut down by a trio of shots to his back, and black clad-commandos rushed into the train car, weapons blazing as they spotted the surviving soldiers, SeeDs, and bodyguards. Laguna answered the assault with a barrage of fiery plasma, and the battle began anew.

* * *

The two shotaxes clashed, the Estharian soldier grunting as he felt his weapon stopped cold in its cleave, blade caught against that of his foe's. The commando pushed back, easily pushing the soldier's weapon back, and snapped its other hand across into a backhand that connected solidly with the soldier's faceplate. The man was hurled back off his feet, weapon clattering to the side, and the commando darted forward, raising its axe for a brutal finishing chop.

That axe never descended, however, and the commando was hurled off its feet as a bolt of fiery magic ripped into its side. The commando stumbled away, disoriented by the attack, and then went down under a leaping, roaring SeeD who crashed into it, taking it down and beating on with bare hands, crushing the commando within moments. Zell rose off the dead cyborg and quickly rushed across the train car.

This car was a passenger car, a wide open area filled with rows seats and narrow aisles. There had been about thirty people in this car, mostly aides and civilians, and many of them had never gotten a chance to get out of their seats before the dozen cyborgs that had burst in had brutally slaughtered them. The only humans left alive in this car were a few soldiers who must have retreated from the cars further back, as a small army of nearly two dozen of the cybernetic soldiers were fighting half that many soldiers and bodyguards in this car.

Argus helped the wounded soldier stand up as several more soldiers rushed past, the survivors of the car ahead who Zell and Argus had managed to save. The soldier grabbed his shot axe and turned back toward the battle.

"Is anyone else still alive in the rear cars?" he asked the soldier, and the man shook his head.

"They overran the last two cars. Mostly baggage anyway, we didn't have many men back there," the man replied, and the two of them opened fire, blasting into a cyborg that had separated itself from the melee. Between the two, they quickly dispatched the commando.

Ahead, Zell had dove directly into the melee, fists flying and feet impacting viciously as he engaged his foes in close quarters battle. He caught a slashing axe and twisted it aside by its haft, while planting a side kick into another cyborgs gut that hurled it across the car. He spun back toward the commando whose attack he had deflected, and sent a right jab into its chest, crumpling armor and blasting it about fifteen feet away, to crunch against the train wall. Another axe chopped at the brawler's face, but he leaned back hard, and as the axe flew past, Zell shot forward into a snapping forward kick that shattered the cyborg's faceplate and sent it flipping end-over-end across the car.

"Fall back!" Zell quickly ordered the surviving soldiers as he dropped low beneath an arcing slash, and came up with a jaw-shattering uppercut that broke his target's neck from the sheer power behind it. "There's too many! Fall back to the President's car! We're evacuating!"

The soldiers and agents were well-trained, and they knew when to follow orders, especially in this kind of situation. The Estharians moved backward, pouring plasma fire at the cyborgs in concentrated barrages of covering fire. The black-clad commandos ducked behind whatever cover the y could, while Zell continued to beat back the enemy as a rear guard. He, too, retreated as he fought, crushing any commandos that got near him. The surviving soldiers and bodyguards retreated out the door at the end of the car, eventually leaving just Zell and Argus covering the entrance.

"Cover me!" Zell ordered, and stepped out the door, standing in the open air between the two trains. Argus poured fire from his assault rifle out at the cyborgs, who quickly took cover, but rapidly advanced nonetheless. Argus heard the rush of ice magic being cast behind him as nailed one with a burst to the head, and then heard Zell shout something. The train cars shuddered from an impact, and Argus was then grabbed by Zell and yanked back into the car they were retreating to. The cyborgs rushed forward, but were swiftly left behind as the two cars separated, Zell having frozen and then shattered the coupling between the two vehicles with his monumental strength.

"Taken care of!" Zell muttered with a grin as the car quickly fell away, leaving overhalf of the enemy force behind.

* * *

"We're down to thirty percent power!" shouted the co-pilot, Lieutenant Evans, and Captain Reynolds of the Estharian _Ragnarok-class_ assault ship _Razor_ cursed.

"Antigrav system still operating?" he asked, and Evans nodded.

"Aye, sir!"

"Siphon off some of that power, feed it into our engines. Guns, how are we looking?" Reynolds struggled with the controls in his hands as he watched the ocean rising up, and the train ahead with the President onboard being assaulted by black-clad commandos.

"Main beam cannon is offline!" responded Lieutenant Hikaru, at the weapons station. "Pyromancers are offline as well, the missile strike took out the pods. But both forward-firing cannons are operational!"

Reynolds didn't say anything to his comms officer, who was slumped in his chair. The Pyromancer missiles unleashed electromagnetic pulses as well as explosive blasts on impact; the treacherous attack had sent electrical shorts throughout the system, and had overloaded several consoles in the airship. The comms console had exploded in the man's face, killing him instantly.

One more reason why Captain Reynolds was _pissed._

"Guns, get me a targeting solution on that bastard," Reynolds muttered as he slowly pulled up on his controls. "Feed all nonessential power into the engines. We'll need it."

The airship began a gradual rise, and as more energy was redirected into the damaged engines, reallocating the limited power from the badly damaged reactor. Slowly, Reynolds brought his wounded warship to bear on the treacherous _Raptor_. Captain Jorgen was dead, and likely any other loyal crew on the ship as well. It had been captured by the enemy, whoever they were, and was threatening his President.

"Targeting solution acquired," Hikaru said, a degree of vengeful anticipation in her voice.

"Blast that son of a bitch out of the sky."

* * *

The next car had been being used as a meeting room for the diplomats who had been riding with Laguna to aid him in he negotiations. Now it was a war zone. As with the previous rooms, the commandos had burst in and killed everything in their path; none of the civilians in the room were still standing, blood pooling across the rich carpet floor. The cyborg intruders were thick in this room, with no surviving Estharian troops fighting them, but that did little to deter Raijin and Lex as they dove into the middle of the fray. Raijin beat two of his foes aside while Lex singled out a single cyborg and cut him down in the blink of an eye. Laguna was right behind them, leading the way asover adozen wounded and battered, but vengeful, soldiers and bodyguards followed after him. Ellone brought up the rear, clutching her rifle tightly in shaking hands. The battle was flying past far faster than she'd expected it to, and even her training in self-defense and marksmanship wasn't enough to prepare her for the brutality of this vicious attack.

A man beside her went spinning to the floor, his face melted by a well-placed shot of plasma, and she ducked down low, firing blindly in the general direction of her opponents. She quickly moved to the side, behind another overturned table, the sounds of shouting, screaming and sizzling fire almost overwhelming her, until a hand hit her shoulder. She glanced up and saw Laguna, who gave her a quick nod. She nodded back, receiving all the support she would need from him at that moment.

"Follow my lead," he told her, and she nodded. He rolled around the side of the table, firing a stream of plasma at a target, and she did the same, right beside him, aiming at the same enemy. Two bolts from her rifle struck the cyborg in the chest as it tried to evade Laguna's fire, and threw it down to the floor, where it lay still.

A bolt struck the table right by her face, however, and Ellone quickly ducked back. As soon as she was behind cover, though, several cyborgs opened fire, plasma striking all around Laguna as he ducked as well.

"Popular today, aren't we?" he muttered, and she nodded. They heard the sound of boots hitting the floor on the other side of the table, and then a close discharge of plasma. A soldier screamed and flopped to the floor beside them, and Laguna spun around, rising up. On the other side of the table as another cyborg, having leapt across the distance and closing in on the two humans crouching behind the table. It leveled its rifle at Laguna, who squeezed off a quick burst, which took the commando in its chest and staggered it. An arrow lodged in the cyborgs head, and then the thing exploded, launching bits of bone and electronics everywhere. Laguna ducked back behind the table, and turned toward Fujin, who was stringing another arrow into her bow, and sent her a wave of thanks. She nodded.

Another cyborg, and then another, and then a third, leapt across the distance between the Estharians and their foes, closing in and fighting at close range. Another landed beside the table where Laguna and Ellone were crouching, and whiled to face them. The President rose, raising his rifle, and aimed it at the commando's head.

The cyborg snapped a hand down to its belt, and flicked something out at the floor, a flattened cylindrical object. There was a brilliant explosion of light from the flash grenade, and Laguna's vision went white as the illumination overwhelmed his eyes. Panicking for a moment, the President fired blindly straight ahead, plasma erupting from his rifle, and he heard the cyborg's metal skin sizzle from the superheated gas. This was followed by the _thunk_ of it toppling to the floor, its weaponfollowing an instant later.

Chaotic sounds surrounded Laguna as he stumbled back, jerking his head around as he tried to shake off the disorienting effect of the grenade. He heard a shout directly a head, and a plasma bolt sizzled by his skull, too close for comfort. Raijin's meaty fist crashed into something, and he heard the rustle of wind magic, accompanied by several impacts. Shouts from the agents and soldiers around Laguna, more energy blasts, a death cry, and the crash and screech of metal on metal assaulted Laguna's ears.

Then, a sound cut in that startled and terrified Laguna Loire. There was a grunt, and then a sudden cry of shock and fear from Laguna's left, where Ellone had been standing.

"Laguna!" Ellone's voice shouted. "Help!" The President spun in that direction, his eyesight now only showing dim outlines, and pointed his rifle, uncertain as to where her attacker was coming from. Laguna perceived a swish of a blade cutting through the air, and another cyborg dropped dead to the floor, likely from Lex's katana.

"Ellone!" Laguna shouted, and he heard Raijin roar something, and his massive outline flew in front of Laguna's line of sight. The President was knocked down as another shape, moving lightning-fast, darted toward him, swinging a weapon that just barely missed his head as he fell. Raijin's figure caught that attacker, which was quickly followed by a sickening crunch and snap of bone and rent metal. Somewhere in his mind, Laguna created the image of Raijin simply snapping the commando's backbone, folding it neatly back over itself.

He heard Ellone scream his name again, and Laguna began to rise to his feet, hi vision returning. He raised his rifle, scanning the dim car for Ellone or her attacker, but saw nothing as he looked around.

"Hey, where are they going?" asked Lex suddenly, and Laguna realized that the cyborgs were in fact retreating, rushing toward the windows and climbing out of them, only a few remaining behind to cover their departure, of whom only a couple escaped as Fujin, Raijin, and Lex quickly cut them down.

"Ellone, where's Ellone?" Laguna demanded, looking around the car. His adopted daughter was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Simmons was about to dance with glee. They had it! The package was secured, and the troops were falling back. He'd already fallen back to the detached train cars and had picked up seventeen surviving commandos from them, and was moving up to the forward cars. He settled in over the train, and waited for the troops inside the hangar bay to lower the drop lines to the commandos so they could get back up with their secured package in hand. Idly, Simmons activated the beam cannon, powering it up. Once the men were secured, he'd move on to the final phase, and eliminate the President himself.

"_Bringing the package in now,"_ came the icy, emotionless statement over the comm, from the leader of the cyborg unit. Simmons watched in joy as the package was quickly brought onboard, and secured. The rest of the commandos started up-

And Simmons jerked in shock and confusion as his hull rattled with dozens of small explosions. Something detonated in the rear of his ship, and it took a second for Simmons to recover from the shock of the attack. He glanced at his rear sensors.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted. The other airship that he had shot down hadn't actually been shot down, and was quickly closing in, flames escaping from its engines as it fired its forward machineguns at the _Raptor. _Hull plates buckled in the rear compartments of his airship as the heavy rounds tore into hiscraft.

"Get your asses up here!" Simmons ordered his commando team as they scrambled up the drop lines. A second volley of fire impacted the rear of Simmons' ship, and something exploded in the rear, throwing him off-course. Several commandos, still clutching the drop lines, were flung off and into the sea.

"Asshole!" Simmons shouted at the surviving airship, and he worked frantically over the control panel for his airship, juggling a dozen different functions in one screen at the same time. He brought his ship around, arming the forward guns, and came about to face the enemy airship, which suddenly rocketed past his vehicle. Simmons cursed and swung around, his ship moving clumsily due to the sheer number of things he had to handle at the same time. He was a mercenary, not an airship pilot, dammit!

The damaged _Razor_ was coming around, aiming toward his ship as he came to face them, engines burning brightly from the dozens of ruptures in its hull. Simmons quickly gauged how fast it was moving. He had severely damaged the ship, and it wouldn't take a lot of abuse to critically damage the aircraft. But they likely had a full crew on the bridge, and he was just one man. They would have a speed and reaction advantage over him, even with the damaged ship.

Simmons glanced down at his beam cannon gauge, and grinned. They may have a speed advantage, but his ship was still intact and with heavy firepower, which more than evened the match-up. He settled his crosshairs over the wounded airship and fired.

His ship shook as the cannons opened up, launching blazing hot metallic death at his foes. Simmons grinned as the bullets smashed into the enemy ship, which quickly veered off course as the two craft neared. As they passed, the _Razor_ as somehow able to pivot partially and fire off a burst of shots into the hull of Simmons' ship, blasting off a chunk of armor and generally pissing the mercenary off.

"Oh, you bastards, that is _it_." He quickly tapped in commands and brought the ship around, switching over to the beam cannon. His airship rotated clumsily. Bringing the cannon to bear on the retreating enemy Ragnarok as it came about. He settled his targeting brackets just ahead of the wounded craft as it turned, and fired the heavy cannon. A massive pulse of light lanced out at the turning airship, which suddenly managed to stop and drop just below the bolt of destructive energy. The blast ripped past the bridge, missing by less that ten or fifteen feet, and the wounded airship accelerated, finishing its turn.

"No, no, no!" Simmons complained, and he jabbed the firing controls for the machineguns, momentarily forgetting about maneuvering. The other airship poured fire onto his craft, hammering it with hundreds of heavy rounds as he opened up. Return fire streaked across the gap between the two ships, but the _Razor_ skittered to the side despite its wounds, managing to avoid the brunt of the damage as it flew past Simmons' ship. Three rounds collided with the canopy covering the bridge, and Simmons jerked reflexively as he heard the transparisteel crack under the impacts, but the canopy remained intact somehow.

Simmons snarled and turned, bringing his airship around. Those bastards were _not_ getting away after this insult.

* * *

"Okay, where's the speed control on this thing?" Lex asked, hunched over one of the control panels for the train.

"Not sure, never learned Estharian," Zell replied with a shake of his head. Behind him, about a dozen men, the few survivors of the battle for the train, along with Argus, Fujin, and Raijin, were covering the entrance to the engine car, in case the enemy came back. Laguna clutched his rifle, but looked like he was on the verge of panic. Zell wasn't too calm either, both of them tremendously concerned for Ellone after her unexpected disappearance.

"None of the engineers survived," Argus commented, shaking his head as well. "That other airship is still out there-" His comment was cut off by more thundering explosions outside the train as the two airships outside exchanged fire.

"Try the comm," Raijin suggested, and Argus nodded. He stepped over to the panel that looked like the comms board, and tapped a holographic control. There was a pop from a speaker on the wall, then a burst of static, followed by a terse voice.

_"Maintain fire!"_ came an order_. "Take those traitors down!"_

"_Razor, _is that you?" Laguna quickly asked, and they heard an impact on the other end of the radio, as something smashed into the craft on the other end._"_

_Mr. President, is that you, sir?"_ asked the commanding voice on the other end.

"Yes, Captain," Laguna responded quickly. "Captain, we've retaken the train, though we lost a lot of people." Laguna paused for a moment, taking a breath, obviously still wracked by Ellone's disappearance. In that moment, the Captain of the _Razor_ spoke again.

_"__Yes, sir, we saw the retreat,"_ he explained._ "They pulled most of the enemy off the train before we fired. We think . . . Hold on, brace yourselves, evasive maneuvers!" _he explained. There was a shuddering explosion from the other side, coinciding with one directly over the top of the train car. 

"Damage report! . . . Dammit! Top portside is completely gone? Evans, compensate those engines. Lieutenant, prepare to fire!"

"Captain, can you destroy the enemy ship?" Laguna asked.

"We're trying not to,"the Captain admitted. _"Lieutenant Hikaru spotted the intruders dragging someone from the train onto their ship, so we're trying to disable the Raptor. Hold on, coming around! Fire, fire!"_

More thunder blasts sounded overhead, with a second set of gunshots interweaving among the first set. Laguna remained frozen at the console at hearing the words.

"CAPTIVE?" Fujin asked, and Laguna nodded, horror appearing on his face.

"They kidnapped Ellone," Laguna muttered, shaking his head. "They kidnapped Ellone and tried to kill me. But _why_?"_"_

_Aw, yeah, right up the ass!"_the Captain of the Razor cut in, cheering_ "Knocked out their starboard engines! That'll slow 'em down for sure!"_

"NO TIME," Fujin hissed. "ESCAPE."

"Fuu's right, ya know?" Raijin quickly cut in. "We got a chance now, we can save thinking for later. Let's pull out while we can!"

"Right," Laguna said, and took another breath. "Captain, can you come around over our car and pick us up?"

_"Affirmative, sir,"_ the Captain replied quickly._ "We've gotten a couple of moments from damaging that traitor's ship. We're coming around now, you'll need to climb up top so we can lower the drop lines and pick everyone off the roof."_

"Roger that," Laguna replied. "Let's move!" The President raised his rifle, and gestured toward the engine car's windows, which the survivors quickly moved to open. He clutched his weapon tightly, promising himself that he would find out why these terrorists had kidnapped his daughter, and that he would do whatever it took to save Ellone.

* * *

"Fucking bastards!" Simmons cursed, and struggled to bring his ship around. He kept an eye on the navigational and engineering monitors, which were showing the steady shift of power from the disable engines to the intact ones, which was slowly evening out his flight. He had automated the task, not wanting to do it himself when he had to fight, but that was slowing down his recovery. As he came about, the beam cannon charged up, and he watched his sensors. The _Razor_ was moving directly over the train's engine car, and as Simmons brought the _Raptor_ to bear, he saw why.

"Running, are you, Loire?" muttered the mercenary, grinning. He could see the survivors climbing onto the rooftop of the intact engine car, and some scrambling up drop lines lowered from the _Razor's_ hangar bay. He settled his crosshairs over the train itself, but quickly worked up a targeting solution for the damaged airship with his cannon. One fell swoop would destroy both the train and the airship, sealing the fate of the stubborn President of Esthar.

"Can't pull out," Simmons said darkly, grin widening. "Won't abandon your President to die like the dog he is, and thus, you die, too, you annoying little fly." Simmons came within firing range, his crosshairs going red, and jabbed the firing controls. His machineguns opened fire, and hundreds of heavy slugs ripped out at the shortened train, starting from the rear car. Bullets tore into it, blasting it apart within moments, and he moved the crosshairs up, blasting into the next car. No one could have survived that barrage, he knew. Simmons understood that only a few seconds remained between now and the destruction of the engine car as he moved his crosshair higher. That knowledge gave the mercenary some pleasure, as he knew that the survivors would realize the same thing, and understand their helplessness as death swept up the train.

The train car two compartments back from the engine car exploded under Simmons' assault, and he raised the crosshairs higher, preparing to sweep them over the engine car, when there was an explosion in the sky directly behind the _Razor._ A roiling ball of flame appeared, and out of it came a great arm, burned and blackened, followed by a massive, hulking creature with glowing yellow eyes, flaming red hair, and burnt skin, black horns curving over its head and toward its back.

The creature shifted its gaze over Simmons, seeming to look directly at the mercenary with its shining golden eyes, and fires erupted down the length of its body. The flaming aura sheathed the creature in a blazing inferno, and then, without warning, it jetted forward, raising its hands in a pyrotechnical display of a raw elemental firestorm that raged around the creature's body. An instant before it slammed into the prow of the _Raptor_, Simmons knew what this thing was.

"Shit!" he cried as his ship was engulfed in the raw flames that boiled the hull t the bow of his ship. "Guardian Force!" The airship was knocked out of line by the impact, pushed violently to the left and upward, rocked back by the incredible power of the Guardian Force summon. Those damned, meddling, SeeD . . . _bastards!_

"You are so fucking _dead."_ Simmons snarled, and he brought his airship back around. He watched as the computer updated the targeting solution for the beam cannon, and as he brought the weapon to bear, he received a solid tone, indicating it was locked on. Simmons let out a howl of victory and slammed the holo-panel, sending the bolt of raw destruction lancing out at the train.

* * *

"Go, go, go!" Laguna ordered from the rooftop of the train as the last of his bodyguards rushed up the drop lines. He had ordered his men, as well as the SeeDs and his bodyguards, to go up first. Beside him, Zell was watching the other airship, gauging how much damage he had done with his Ifrit summon. The enemy airship looked badly damaged, but not destroyed, and as it came around, the SeeD saw a telltale flash of light from the beam cannon.

"Oh, shit, he's firing!" Zell warned, and he spun toward the drop line as it cleared, the soldier on it climbing up. He reached out and grabbed it, spinning around and reaching an arm out to Laguna. The president leapt at Zell, arms stretching out as the bolt of coherent light slammed into the rear of the engine car, filling it with a brilliant flash of light that seared Zell's eyes. He felt something hit his hand and clenched it tightly as a shockwave of force buffeted the SeeD. An instant later, intense heat and a dozen minor pains sounded across his body as shrapnel dug in, and then Zell's feet left solid the surface, flying out into the open air. He clutched the rope and the other thing in his hand tightly as his ears popped from the raw explosion that had occurred just beneath his feet.

Finally, after several moments, Zell opened his eyes, and saw himself hanging out in the open over the gray sea. Below him, his hands clutching the front of his shirt, was Laguna, looking ragged but very alive. The President reached up desperately, grabbing at Zell's arm, the fingers of which tightened even further, pulling Laguna up closer. He reached out and grabbed the drop line, holding it tightly, as the line began to be winched up. A few moments later, a dozen hands helped the two climb up into the open hangar bay of the _Razor_.

"Holy crap, Zell, that was close," Lex commented as the two stood in the hangar, which was filled with debris and several bodies of fallen crewmen killed in the missile attack. "For a second we thought the explosion got you both."

"Not today," Laguna replied firmly. "Let's get to that bridge, now,." He and Zell, along with Zell's SeeD comrades and Fujin and Raijin, moved up through the damaged corridors of the airship and up to the bridge, rising within moments into the battered control center. The pilot, the Captain of the airship, turned his head back to the President as he came onto the bridge.

"Sir, welcome aboard," the Captain said with a slight smile.

"Where's the other ship?" Laguna asked, and was answered by a series of explosions along the rear of the damaged craft.

"On our asses, sir!" the Captain replied, and threw the ship into a dive. Everyone standing on the bridge grabbed at something, stabilizing themselves in the aggressive evasive maneuver.

"Sorry for the rough handling," the pilot said quickly. "Evans, how far is that island you spotted?"

"Less than two miles, sir," replied the copilot. "We'll be over it within thirty seconds."

"What's the plan?" Zell asked, and the copilot nodded toward a holographic display, showing a large, thickly forested island about fifteen miles across.

"Lose pursuit for a second, land there, ditch the ship, and hide until rescue," Evans explained.

"Trick is losing that bastard," muttered the weapons officer. "Sir, give me an opening to fire and I can get him off our tail!"

"He isn't giving us one," the Captain replied, and the ship shook again from more gunfire. "Shit! Losing power to the remaining engines! What's our ETA?"

"Fifteen seconds, sir!" Evans replied. The island in question was in view, and the Captain steered directly toward it, pushing his remaining engines to the max.

"Mr. President, get down to the passenger section and strap yourself in. That's an order, sir!"

Laguna hesitated, and then nodded. Without a word, he, with Fujin and Raijin beside him, stepped onto the elevator and went down below. Before them, the island grew, only a few seconds away. The could see the shoreline and the trees, as well as a couple of mountains towering over the thick forests.

"Hope you SeeDs are made of stern stuff," the Captain remarked, seeing Zell, Argus, and Lex still standing, though bracing themselves. "We're going in hard."

"Incoming! Evans shouted suddenly, and the ship was suddenly rocked off course, spiraling out of control. The island spun over and over as the ship descended rapidly.

"What the hell?" the Captain roared.

"Beam cannon!" the weapons officer cried. "Direct hit to our rear! The engines are _gone!_ I repeat, they are destroyed!"

"We're going in hard!" the Captain shouted, flicking on the intercom. Before them, a wall of green and brown, the thick canopy of forest, swept up to consume their ruined craft.

"All hands, brace yourselves, we're going down! _Razor_ is going down hard!"

And then they hit.

* * *

-

* * *

This chapter was a bit of a monster to write. I was expecting a good long battle on the train, but it ended up a lot longer than I expected, forcing me to devote an entire chapter to the assassination! Wow, maybe I'm biting off more than I can chew with this story I'm making . . . .

Anyway, next chapter, more on Squall, Rinoa, and also looking into the heads of Selphie and Irvine as they go on their mission! Squall's day is about to go from normal to very, very bad . . . .

I don't think I included any references here outside some Halo-esque technology, which, if you've read Gunblade, is the primary technology style of Esthar anyway.

Shout-out time!

Spikestrife: Imagine Squall as looking . . . More like Aragorn, and you've got the image I'm aiming for here.

DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Alucard is . . . An "exception." There'll be a few new types of creatures popping up in this storyline, and will be explained later. But Alucard . . . He'll be vampire-styled, at least, and there'll be more relation between him and the Hellsing Alucard than just the name . . . .

Don't worry, no facial hair for Seifer! Again, Squall is a bit modeled toward Aragorn here.

There was an assassination attempt, yeah. What, you think I'll kill Laguna? No way!

Aha! You caught it! This story is heavily based off 24. Expect some twists at the end of each chapter, or in the middle of the chapters. Its going to be a roller-coaster ride, juts like the show! Squall will act very similar to Jack Bauer. Also, anyone notice the Garden headquarters room? I modeled it after CTU's main room.

Solarious: Darn real life. Keeps getting in the way of important things! I'm probably not going to use Greenbeans' characters. Silence was cool as hell, but he doesn't fit in here. Alucard is kind of fulfilling his role in a way.

OniRazz: Alucard is brand-new. His role is . . . Undefined as of yet. Don't worry, you'll find out what purpose he serves here sooner or later.

Leonheartilly: Yes, Rinoa had a stillborn child from Squall. Don't ignore the little facts, people! They could become extremely important.

NolianStorms: I'm surprised at how far I've gone myself. I look back at Gunblade's earlier chapters, and then at what happens later on, and I'm shocked at how I grew with each part of the story.

I have no problem with you printing gunblade. Feel free to print and distribute it. All I ask is that someone tell me they're doing it, and not stealing it, and I'm happy. Again, I have no problems releasing my work as long as I know its getting released, heh. If anyone wants to print out or spread one of my stories, just drop a review saying you are doing it, and I'll be fine.

Thank you for the compliments. I hope to write for real someday.

JadeAlmasy: "Pirates" is one of my favorite movies, heh. I was running that dialogue through my head at work while thinking up that scene, and it clicked perfectly.

Tonyo: Combat? Yes, this will have combat. Lots of it, though its intended to be intense as well as action-packed.

Elachim: Ohh, this is what I like. People telling me what I did wrong and deflating my ego. I love it! (seriously, no sarcasm, I like this stuff, do it more! )

You got Haroldington's name right. I purposefully made that name long, because I want to make Dollet seem kind of silly in terms of titles and whatnot, making them sound rather pretentious and such.

I always figured Seifer's friends were a little like him, in some manner. Fujin is very rigid and military-styled, yes, but I can imagine someone having a fetish or imbellishment. Her outfit always made me think "pirate" when I saw her, and I figured she would have added an eye patch to finish the equation. Then again, it could have been for medical reasons, perhaps. Who knows?

The colors of her arrows are functional. Her arrows are of different types; some explosive, some flaming, etc. The colors indicate what type they are.

Irvine and Selphie will be next. This chapter focused on Zell, Laguna, and the others a lot (plus Simmons, who I've quickly come to like writing) and the next will focus on them, as well as Squall. Like I said, Squall's day is going to be real bad.

Guilty Gear is an anime-styled fighting game series with complex controls, kooky characters, and a surprisingly deep and developed storyline. The characters I'll be borrowing from include Slayer, a vampire-styled noble gentleman with excessive power, as well as a few others. Don't worry if you don't get any Guilty Gear references. They will be fairly vague.

Red-Eyed Divine Dragoon: Hmm. That sounds cool. I may have to look into it.

Icedragon6171: Alucard is a trademark meddler in this story. He'll pop up from time to time to aid the various characters involved in the Fisherman's Horizon part of the story, but he won't play a massive role until later on when things really hit the fan.

Trust me, the crazy attack on the world leaders will be crazier than you think.

Kaiser: Nope. Not even starting to get really good. This is just setting the awesome parts up!

Solid Shark: Oh, yes, definitely Rouge Squadron references here.

Daniel Wesley Rydell: If you like Squall having a really bad day, you will really like the upcoming chapters. XD

E: Hey, it was included for humor value, so I'm glad someone like that thought.

Skyedream: Confusion intentional. Wait until you see who the guy behind the desk really is!

Xephon: I certainly intend to, especially with summer rolling around!

Chris Ganale: Bingo! You caught my inspiration for both those scenes perfectly. Good eye, though they were easy to see for those who knew those scenes well.

Kimahrigirl: thank you! I hope you enjoy this, its going to be insane, I think. I'm going insane keeping track of my plot threads . . . .

Prodigy: I intend to exceed Gunblade here. This will take a while (its going to be something of a series, but a very long series, too) but I hope it comes out well!

That everybody? Excellent. Well, now to my homework. Enjoy your new chapter!

Until next chapter!


	4. III: Duress

_Chapter 3: Duress_

The snowmobile cruised across the open, rolling plains of Trabia, a few hundred miles southeast of Trabia Garden. The white paint job blended in well with the terrain, and the covered cab of the vehicle provided protection for its occupants from the icy cold of Trabia's usually frigid climate.

"So, how far are we?" Irvine, seated in one of the rear seats, asked.

"Couple of miles, a few minutes from the edge of the forest," answered the blue-clad Trabian SeeD driving the vehicle, a man named Reggie. "The hunting lodge should be a couple of minutes into the woods, not too far away."

"Those hunters know their thing," commented the second SeeD in the front of the vehicle, named Victor. "They go in and out of this lodge while out in the forest. They see everything going on out in the woods. We've chatted with them before."

"Then they'll know about the Demon," Selphie finished from her spot next to Irvine in the backseat. She, like Irvine, was clad in a thick white uniform, SeeD cold weather gear. Unlike Selphie, though, Irvine had opted to wear his hat on top of his head, and had insisted on donning a white trenchcoat to conceal the arsenal of guns he carried on hand.

"This Demon keeps sounding more and more like a silly fairy tale," Irvine commented, and both the Trabian SeeD chuckled.

"Hey, they pay, we look," replied Victor. "Contract is only so we can canvas the woods the Demon is supposed to be living in. If we don't find it, we can leave."

"And if we do?" Selphie asked.

"Report it and capture it," replied Reggie. "Not that I think we'll see anything out there. The hunters will tell us if anything's up, and they know the facts, not the local superstitions."

"A cakewalk," Selphie said with a smile. "Even if it is chilly, this mission'll be a breeze."

Irvine glanced at her, and nodded. She turned her head and looked at him for a moment, and their eyes, brown and green, connected briefly. Irvine then turned away, not quickly or defensively, but smoothly. He did well to keep his cool around Selphie, especially considering his feelings for her, and the mutual feelings he knew she was developing for him.

It was kind of silly, Irvine mused as he looked outside, into the rolling snowy plains, steadily giving way to young, snow-covered saplings and pine trees as they neared the forest. Here he was, Irvine Kinneas, professional ladies' man of Galbadia Garden, a certified expert on women, who had helped dozens of guys get hooked up with dates and girlfriends, most of which were strong, stable relationships. He knew how to smooth-talk, he knew precisely what to say, and when, and he was still a damn _virgin_ at twenty years, with a dozen years in Garden himself.

Irvine chuckled at the irony of his situation. Yeah, he was great at talking with women, knowing how to act around them, but for some reason he never truly took advantage of that. He simply didn't want to sleep with someone he didn't really care for. While Irvine was skilled with the women, he had his honor and his dignity; if he didn't, he guessed that there would have been well over a dozen girls at Galbadia and Balamb Gardens that would have been removed from the organization due to an unexplained pregnancy.

So, there he was, a smooth-talking man who could get any girl he wanted if he tried, and the only girl he really cared for was right beside him at that moment, creating a problem for him. Namely, that he was willing to go further with the relationship between them, but happened to be a bit scared because he was actually willing to do that. Irvine had never been in a full, complete relationship with another person before, and he wanted one with Selphie.

"What is it?" Selphie asked him, apparently having heard his chuckle, and he shook his head, glancing back to her.

"Joke Zell told me," he replied. "Bit dirty, won't stain your ears with it. And those two upstanding gentlemen in the front are a bit too young for it."

"Hey, keep your senile comments to yourself, old man," Victor shot back, and some laughter sounded in the car.

In the ensuing silence, Irvine looked away again. He and Selphie were close, no question about that. They had grown attached during the Sorceress War, in no small part due to him steadily insinuating himself in Selphie's routines and life. He wasn't aware of how close they had gotten until they had battled Adel, though. He remembered seeing Selphie get struck by the bolt of energy, and her agonized cry, which had galvanized the sharpshooter into an offensive frenzy that had annihilated Adel.

But perhaps the most striking part was what had happened after that during the battle against Ultimecia. Selphie had told him later on that, when he had been killed, she had been overcome by rage and unleashed hell on Ultimecia. Ultimately it had been futile, but the meaning behind her almost unthinking actions in response to his death spoke volumes. The reunion after the battle had been filled with emotion, and the two were inseparable for months after the fact. Even now, they were still very close friends, and plenty of rumors ran around Garden that Irvine and Selphie were more than just war buddies. But those rumors were just that: rumors.

Irvine wondered to himself how much Selphie did care for him. She loved him as a friend, no question, but as more than that . . . Did she love Irvine as he was hesitant to admit he loved her?

That question bothered him for a long time as they drove through the woods, down a moderately worn vehicle path toward a nondescript wooden cabin nestled among the snowy trees.

"There's the lodge," Reggie commented as they pulled up outside the structure. "Huh. Looks like no-one's home." The windows at the front were dark, and no smoke came out of the chimney of the mid-sized cabin.

"Let's go have a look," Selphie quickly suggested, and Irvine nodded. They opened the side doors of the snowmobile and climbed out, before moving toward the entrance of the old cabin. Irvine paused to check the safeties on his guns. Just in case.

"We'll stay here and watch the perimeter," Reggie added, and Irvine nodded as he and Selphie approached the silent cabin.

* * *

"Commander?" asked a female SeeD as Squall was checking over the updated intelligence files, and Squall looked up. 

"Yeah?" He dropped the binder back onto the desk of the analyst he been speaking to.

"Sir, Information Retrieval just finished running that request on the name you gave them," she replied, handing him a binder. Squall nodded his thanks and opened it, glancing at the scant few files in the binder. No known records of any man named "Alucard". A check of Garden records showed that the name was not on any wanted lists or related to any contracts SeeD had performed in the last few years. The only thing that did show up that name was a listing of books in the library, filed under tertiary connections. They apparently all dealt with old Galbadian and Centran history.

Squall closed the binder and looked around, before spotting Quistis. He waved her over.

"What is it?" she asked as she neared, and Squall took out the file on the library books.

"Retrieval just gone done with the search on that name," he explained.

"That was fast," she replied, and he nodded as she looked over the file.

"No listings or connections we can find," he continued. "But the name is in a few history books. I'm thinking a pseudonym for this guy?"

"Possibly," Quistis commented. "Now that you mention these books, I may have read a few of them back when I was a cadet." She glanced back up at Squall. "You want to check the books now?"

"We have to keep a close eye on the city until the conference is over," Squall said, shaking his head. But then he paused, tapping his chin. "I know. Give me a second." He turned and went back up the stairs to his elevated office, closing the door and picking up the phone. He quickly tapped in a trio of numbers, connecting him to the apartment he and Rinoa shared.

"Hello?" Rinoa's voice picked up a couple of rings later.

"Hey, its me," Squall said, a slight smile creeping into his face as he heard her voice. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," she replied. "I was getting ready to head up to the dojo to train with Master Sabin in a little bit."

"Do you have a moment to help me out?" Squall asked.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"There was a suspicion man in Garden last night, and we were running a search on his name," Squall explained. "His name was 'Alucard.' You heard of it?"

"I might, why?" Rinoa asked, perplexed.

"Retrieval says that the only match we can find for his name is in a few books in the library. I was wanting to check them to see if they had any clues, but we're busy up here with the conference . . . ."

"And you're wondering if I can do the looking for you," Rinoa finished, chuckling. "Sure thing. I'll see what I can dig up."

"Thank you," Squall said.

"No problem," she replied. "How's it going up there?"

"Its rough," Squall replied. "There's a lot of coordination we have to do with Galbadia and Dollet-" Squall paused as a light flashed on his phone. "Hold on, there's an urgent call. Just a sec, okay?"

"Its all right," Rinoa replied. "I'll go ahead and head down to the library to have a look, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "Thanks again. Once this day is over I'll take you out somewhere."

"Hmm, I like the sound of Dollet food tonight," she said, and he smiled. "Have fun at work. Bye!"

"Goodbye," Squall said, a bit saddened when she hung up the phone. The Commander shook his head, and then cut to the other phone line.

"Commander Leonhart," Squall stated.

"Sir," came the voice on the other end, from one of the communications SeeDs down below. "We have an urgent call for you from someone claiming to be your sister."

"Ellone?" Squall muttered, surprised. "What is it about?"

"She said she really needed to talk with you," the SeeD replied. "Nothing else, though." Squall sighed.

"I'll talk with her for a moment," he said, shaking his head. Rinoa was holding for him, and now he had Ellone wanting to talk too? Well, at least she could tell him about how safe she was with her SeeD escort. He wanted to see her again, but what did she want to talk about that couldn't wait until she arrived in FH?

The line clicked as the call was transferred over, and he heard a voice speak on the other end.

"Hello, Squall," stated a cold female voice, someone who was distinctly not Ellone. He paused for a moment, and glanced outside.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

"Someone who's been wanting to meet you for a very long time, Squall," the woman replied, her tone suddenly shifting, taking on a darkly amused hue.

"Who are you?" Squall asked again, not in the mood for games.

"Well, I can tell you this, which may give you a clue as to the kind of person I am," she replied. "There's a binder on your desk that's about . . . A foot away from your personal laptop, filled with intelligence files on terrorists that may threaten the world conference today."

Squall froze. Having that kind of detailed information meant only one thing.

"That's right, Squall, we're watching you," the woman said, obviously completely amused by what she was saying.

Things had just gotten _very_ complicated.

* * *

"Hello?" Selphie asked as she knocked on the door to the cabin. No response came, and after a few seconds, she repeated the knock and called out again. Beside her, Irvine waited, scanning the woods around the cabin with curiosity. He sniffed the air, and paused, scenting a tang in the air that he, and any experienced SeeD, knew well. 

"Blood," he whispered, and Selphie glanced at him, then nodded. She tried to open the door, to find it unlocked but solidly barricaded. Irvine, wasting no time, circled around the cabin to one of the glass windows, to look in and try to open it, but stopped outside the window.

"Hey, Selphie!" he called. "The windows are broken!" she rounded the corner and saw that he was right, the glass window shattered, and blood coating the broken pieces still in the frame. On the snowy ground were small chunks of glass, and what looked dozens of foot prints in the snow. Irvine looked into the window, and saw only darkness in the cabin.

"Let me check it out," he told her, and vaulted over the windowsill, using a cleared section of the window. Selphie was right behind him, moving into the cabin, which Irvine quickly swept with his rifle. He paused after a moment, his stomach going sick as he looked at the interior, which stank of death and violence, the poignant scent of blood and cordite hanging in the air.

He guessed that there must have been three hunters in the cabin, judging by the bodies. One was slumped in the corner, a dozen vicious slashes across his chest, his hands still clenching a rifle tightly in dead hands. Another was stuck against the wall, run through with what looked like a spear to the chest, his feet dangling a foot from the floor. The last man was in the center of the cabin, his head severed, blood pooling on the wooden floor around his corpse, a stained machete still in hand.

There was a shocked gasp from behind him, and Irvine knew Selphie saw the same thing. The sharpshooter stepped forward, sweeping the area again, looking for anymore bodies, but found none in the room. Tables and chairs had been knocked over, and several broken weapons, swords and spears, lay around the room. Bullet holes pockmarked the interior of the wooden cabin. Some kind of intense battle had occurred here, Irvine knew instantly.

"What did this?" Selphie asked, and Irvine shook his head. He continued to look around the room, and saw that all the windows had been smashed open. Bullets were clustered around the windows themselves, as if the hunters had been shooting at foes coming in through them.

"Selphie, get the others," Irvine said, quickly. "We need to check the perimeter.

"Right," she replied. She turned toward the door, and saw it was barricaded by a heavy locking beam. She quickly removed the beam and stepped out the front, running to the other SeeDs out in the car. Meanwhile, Irvine moved through the cabin, looking for clues. He found more broken weapons, but no bodies of the aggressors, whoever or whatever they were.

Irvine paused as he neared the smoking, smoldering fireplace. He bent down and touched the ashes, noting that they were still warm, almost hot. This had only occurred a short while ago, maybe the previous day or sooner. The sharpshooter turned, scanning the interior for anymore clues, and his eyes fell upon an object lying in one of the pools of blood. It looked like an old, well-worn journal, knocked over during the battle. Curious, Irvine picked it up, and began to thumb through the pages, skipping toward the more relevant parts at the end of the book. The pages were soaked with blood, but some parts were still legible, though not much.

_Eddie. I still remember his scream. The scary thing was he was the tough one, the guy who never screamed. I saw him face down a Snow Lion with two bullets in his rifle, and they . . . . . . . . . Those things, they scared even him, making him cry and scream as we ran. I think it was the . . . . . . . . . . . . That did him in. No man could fight that stuff. I mean, I'd heard the stories about SeeDs and all, but we couldn't fight it. It was . . . . . . . ._

The rest of that page was splattered. Irvine frowned as he looked it over, and moved to the next page, which was clear, excepting a number of splotches. The writing was scratchy and shaky, as if the man writing it was terrified.

_Surrounded. They tracked us back to the cabin. Vick barred the door, and we've moved the furniture in front of the windows. I can hear them, chanting, their voices . . . . . . . White robes, swords, sp . . . . . . . _

_Cackling. Hyne, I hear it, all around us. I hear their chants and the shouts. They're pounding on the furniture. My gun is right here, but I'm scared to pick it up. My hands are shaking. I can barely keep writing. Oneck is praying over in the corner, he's got his rifle, but he looks like he's going to shoot us as much as them. Vick has his machete and his gun, he's out there in the middle shouting at them yelling for them to bring it on. The wood is splintering. They're coming, they're coming and we're dead and . . . . . . . ._

Irvine glanced down at the bottom of the page, the last word barely legible among the blood and the terrified, scribbled writing.

_Demon._

"Reggie's radioing Trabia Garden with a report from the car," Selphie said as she walked back into the room. "Victor's searching the perimeter . . . What is it?" Irvine handed her the journal, and she spent a moment reading over the hunter's last words.

"White robes?" she murmured, thinking. "I've heard of something like that out here before, but I've never-" She paused as they heard Victor call them from outside the house. The two rushed outside, ready to draw their weapons, when they saw Victor standing on a low hill amidst the trees a short distance north of the cabin. He was crouched behind a fallen tree, a longsword in his hands by his side as he looked north. He glanced back, saw the pair, and waved them forward.

"What is it?" Selphie asked as they got close, crouching behind the tree with the Trabian SeeD.

"I saw someone to the north," Victor whispered. "Moving along the trees. I didn't get a good look."

"Where are they?" Irvine asked, reaching into his coat and pulling out the scope for a rifle. He peered through it, scanning the treeline for several moments, before he caught a flicker of motion.

"I see it," he whispered, zooming in. He caught a black-clad figure moving between two trees, and then across a small clearing where he got a good look at it. Or rather, _her._

He saw short black hair, dropping to her shoulders, and a pretty face that looked oddly familiar somehow. Her skin was pale and clear, but not pallid or lifeless, and she wore what looked like a simple, loose, flowing black dress with long sleeves and white trim along the top, around her exposed shoulders. Irvine shivered at the thought of how cold she must be, but then noted the oddly smooth way she was moving as if her feet were not even touching the snow below her. There was something trailing behind her, a ghostly aura of some sort that Irvine couldn't place.

"What is it?" Selphie asked.

"It's a . . . a girl." Irvine lowered his scope. "Probably the kind I'd like to take out to dinner." His shoulder stung, and he glanced at Selphie, who wore a face of mock indignation.

"Should we go find her, ask her about what's happening?" Victor asked. "She might know more than we do about what killed those hunters."

"Good idea," Selphie said, nodding. She began to rise, when the three SeeDs spun, hearing shouts from the direction of the car, along with snarls and the sizzling discharge of fiery magic. The trio of SeeDs broke off and ran around the cabin, coming into view of the vehicle in time to see Reggie release another bolt of magic at a figure in front of him, which went spinning to the ground, engulfed in flames. However, rapidly surrounding the Trabian were more figures, holding spears, scythes, and curved swords, clad in-

_White robes._

They wore loose white, hooded robes, armed with melee weapons. The same people described in the dead hunter's journal. Dozens of them were around the vehicle, closing in on the besieged SeeD.

"Reggie, behind you!" Victor shouted in warning, and the Trabian SeeD spun, magic coursing down his fingers, but only in time to take a curving sword to the gut. The SeeD doubled over, blood pouring from his stomach and over the blade, and dropped to his knees.

"_Reggie!"_ Victor shouted in shock and fury, and he raised his left hand. Fire surrounded his arm and shot don through his fingers, exploding into the back of the white-robed figure that had struck Reggie down. The figure's back burst into flames, and it fell to the snow ablaze.

Irvine and Selphie were right beside him, magic shooting through Selphie's fingertips and out through her palms, a forking bolt of lightning that struck three of the robed figures, throwing them to the snow. Irvine's rifle kicked once, and then twice, then a third time as he fired on one of the figures. The first pair of bullets from his double-barreled rifle struck it in the back, staggering it, and the second pair knocked it to its knees. The third pair blew apart its hood and skull. Irvine shifted his aim, immediately realizing that the man should have gone down from the first shot to the back, yet had somehow survived the second pair of .50 caliber action express rounds. No normal human could survive that . . . _except SeeDs._

Victor shifted his aim, fire magic striking down a second robed figure, when the burning man he had first attacked stood back up, robes blazing in the flames. The man seemed to ignore the fires, up until Victor blasted him a second time, finishing the man off. The other robed figures began to turn, casting their eyes at the SeeDs firing upon them, and at that moment, the SeeDs saw Reggie move. One he pulled his hands away from his stomach and held something out before him, a round, green object, and pulled a pin off it.

"Grenade!" Irvine shouted reflexively, and an second later the fragmentation grenade exploded, hurling shrapnel at supersonic speeds in every direction. Reggie himself was shredded in the blast, blown apart by the explosion, and all for the white-robed figures around him were either vaporized or blasted apart in the detonation.

Victor stared at the scene with wide-eyes shock. He and Reggie were friends, and to see Reggie just _vanish_ in front of his eyes was something he wasn't prepared for. Victor had seen combat - he'd fought in the war between Balamb and Galbadia - but that hadn't prepared him for the death of a friend so suddenly and abruptly.

When the last of the dust settled, however, there were more pressing matters. Several of the white-robed figures, their cloaks and hood tattered in the blast, were standing back up, and others were appearing from the forest all around the vehicle. One, they saw, was carrying a torch, and rushing toward the car, while the others were beginning to charge up the path toward the cabin and the SeeDs, loosing snarling shouts and cries and brandishing weapons.

Those sounds were echoed in the forest around the cabin, and the SeeDs spun, reflexively putting their backs to one another, and saw that more white-robed figures were rushing through the trees all around them, closing in with weapons raised.

The man with the torch reached the car, and before any of the seeds could act, he thrust open the fuel intake port and thrust the torch inside. The vehicle exploded in a massive plume of fire that melted the snow in a wide radius around the vehicle, hurling debris everywhere and killing several more of the white-clad madmen. The SeeDs stared blankly for an instant at their destroyed vehicle, and then quickly turned, facing outward at the enemy as they closed in, shouting and screaming and chanting cried of death and violence.

Without a word, the SeeDs unleashed hell on the oncoming enemy. Fire lanced out from Victor, with waves of electricity and a half-dozen small icicles erupting from Selphie's fingers. The magic slashed and burned, throwing several foes to the ground, but these enemies began to rise again, undaunted by the magical fury. Beside them, Irvine fired quickly out into the enemy as they advanced, every shot a scoring a critical hit on his foes. They seemed to absorb torso shots well enough, barely staggering under the impact of the bullets, but head shots were still very lethal, and popping out their knees sent them facedown into the snow in front of him.

The initial barrage of magic had slowed the enemy advance, but the white-robed men kept on coming, rising from the blasted wounds in their bodies and charging, screaming inarticulate cries of bloodlust. They were close enough that the SeeDs could see their faces, pale-skinned, white eyed ones, with black paint slashing across their skin like dark scars. The men didn't look human, their faces contorted in displays of hatred and rage as they bore in. Magic felled several more, as did Irvine's carefully placed gunshots, but within seconds the enemy was too close, pressing in all around them.

Victor snapped up his longsword, catching a wild slash of a sword and deflecting it out wide. In the opening, he cut across, severing the robed man's head. As he fell, a bolt of fire shot out from his fingers and blasted away another of the white-clad men, and he spun, chopping across, slicing into the chest of an eager figure who was raising his sword. The man stopped, grunting in pain, and raised hiss word higher. Victor stabbed the man in the chest, and he fell away, clutching his torso, before rushing in yet again. A final slash tore off his head, and the man fell to the snow, dead.

Selphie whipped her nunchaku across, smashing a man's jaw and hurling him to the snow, and then brought the weapon across, sending one of the bars over a thrusting sword. The chain wrapped around the sword, and she caught the bar in her other hand. She savagely yanked the nunchaku, tearing the sword out of the man's hands, and whipped the weapon back around, the iron bar crashing into the white-robed figure's head and snapping his neck at a very unhealthy angle.

Irvine fired the last pair of shots from his Valiant into a robed man's face, shattering his skull and throwing the man to the ground. Another closed in, and Irvine tossed the rifle up into the air, catching it by the stock and swinging it across to catch the attacker's sword. The rifle blocked the blow, and Irvine quickly pulled out a pistol from within his coat and fired four shots into the man's gut in less than a second. The robed man fell back, wounded but not dead, and Irvine raised his pistol, firing into the man's throat and face. Three rounds later, the attacker fell, dead.

A half-dozen more men were sweeping in at Irvine, and he quickly dropped his pistol into the snow and yanked out a Calico machine pistol. He leveled the high-capacity, high-powered pistol at his attackers and hosed them, bullets knocking several off their feet and killing at least two of the enemy.

Irvine spun the Calico by its trigger guard, more out of habit than practicality, and slid the machine pistol back into its holster beneath his coat. At the same time, his right hand flicked, snapping open the action of his rifle and exposing the chambers. In the brief moment his covering fire had earned, he tossed the Valiant through the air before him, catching it with his left hand. He shook the rifle once, forcing the spent rounds free of the chamber. As the rounds fell free, his right hand grasped a small lever on the side of the rifle, and pulled it back, shifting the action of the rifle. Irvine's right hand grasped the rifle again by its stock, and his left shot down, grabbing a long, high capacity magazine from inside his coat, and slammed it into a now-opened ammunition port on the bottom of the rifle. Irvine's right hand wrapped around the handle and trigger, and his left pulled back the bolt on the Valiant, finishing the instant modification.

In the span of a second, the sharpshooter had shifted his rifle from a heavy double-barreled revolver-style semiautomatic rifle to a fully automatic machinegun. He leveled the machinegun at his foes and opened up, the high-caliber rounds ripping into them and laying them across the snow, dead or dying.

Victor parried a stroke and send a blast of magic right behind it, sending his foe spinning away with a shard of ice buried in his chest.

"There's too many!" he shouted, and Selphie nodded as she whipped her iron bars into the head of another crazed foe, throwing him away.

"Cover me!" she shouted, and closed her eyes, not waiting for an acknowledgement. Victor slashed and stabbed furiously, deflecting many attacks form her, while Irvine used his machinegun to blow away the enemy as they neared. The white-robed men came on, their swords and spears striking Selphie, but all deflecting off a transparent blue shield she had enacted before her. A moment later, she opened her eyes, and the snow around her trembled as an icicle shot up, contained within it a beautiful, shapely woman.

The icy guardian Force Shiva erupted from within the icicle, breaking free and wasting no time calling up frigid energies. In the cold, icy land of Trabia, Shiva was right at home, and her power over ice and cold was even stronger in the frozen northlands. Blue-white light surrounded her and collected in her hands, and then lanced out at a mass of the enemy, a white line of destruction that rapidly expanded, icing over a wide area, freezing a dozen of the enemy in their tracks. Shiva then snapped her fingers, and the ice shattered, along with the men contained within, breaking them into tiny frozen pieces. The ice Shiva had created vanished, leaving a path before the SeeDs, into the woods, clear of any enemies.

"Retreat!" Victor shouted, and he and Selphie wasted no time dashing down the opened path. Irvine was right behind them, firing at the remaining enemy as they closed in, charging and screaming for blood. The SeeDs plunged deeper into the woods, toward the only safety they could find.

* * *

"Who are you?" Squall asked, turning around, scanning the interior of the Garden office. Where were they? The spotters had to be somewhere, hidden cameras, observers, something telling them what was happening around him. 

"You can call me Illarra, Squall," the woman replied casually. "Though by the end of the day you'll have some very bad words you'd rather call me by, I hope."

"What do you mean?" Squall demanded.

"My objective is to make your life a living hell," she replied, and he could hear her smile in her voice. "One step at a time, you are going to come to hate me more and more because of what I'm going to do to you today, Squall." Gears whirled in Squall's mind.

"You're planning an attack on the conference," Squall hissed, and he new he was right.

"Oh, yes,' she replied. "You are quite apt, Squall. But I won't just be causing rampant chaos and destruction today, ensuring the end of civilization and the rise of a new world order. I have something more planned, specifically for you, Squall. You will be aware, every second, of what will happen, and you will be able to do nothing to stop it, Commander."

"You want to bet?" Squall replied evenly. "One word, and I'll have every Dollet Marine, Galbadian soldier, and SeeD-"

"One word and you will want me to kill you to relieve your suffering," Illarra replied, cutting him off. "You have no idea the position you are in, Squall Leonhart. No idea whatsoever." She said something inaudible on the other end. "Now, Squall, listen carefully, because in a moment you'll be connected with a man under my employ named Simmons. We'll be having a nice three-way conversation with him. Ah, there's the connection now."

"Yo, this the big Commander of SeeD?" cut in a man's voice. Squall didn't answer, and after a moment the man continued. "Ah, well, I knew you weren't the talkative type. Doesn't matter right now, though, because you're going to want to listen very closely." There was a pause on the other end, and the man, Simmons, chuckled.

"You see, Commander, right now I have something that is of great interest to you. Say hi to your brother."

"What? Squall? _Squall!"_ The feminine voice that suddenly cut in was startled, scared, desperate, and most importantly, a voice Squall knew very well, one that made his blood run cold.

"Ellone!" Squall suddenly exclaimed, hearing her voice on the other end. _"Ellone!"_

"Ah, yes, Commander," Simmons cut in immediately, laughing again. "That was your sister, Ellone Loire. She was supposed to be on a train to Fisherman's, but I and a few friends picked her up and took her for a ride after we blew it up and killed everyone on board."

_Laguna? Zell? Dead? And Ellone . . . this man's hostage?_

Squall felt his knees go weak, and he almost sat down, fear and shock working its way into his body, but very quickly being overridden by outrage and anger.

"Now, Commander, before you do anything rash, listen closely." Simmons' voice was replaced by a pained gasp from Ellone on his end of the line, and Squall froze.

"Now, all I did there was pull her hair back roughly. You know what, Commander? I'm going to admit something here. You sister is right here in front of me, on her knees, hands and feet tied up. Now, you do realize she is really freaking _hot_, right? I mean, I'm getting a hard-on just looking at her and her nice, soft skin and tender, exposed neck from me pulling her head back. I wonder what she looks like under these Estharian robes. I'd like to find out. In fact, I'd like to go fuck her brains out right now. Drag her into a back room, put some duct tape over her mouth, tear off her clothes, and, well, you know. In fact, at a word from Illarra, I can go do that, right now. I just need her orders."

Simmons' speech paused, and in the gap, there was the sound of a pistol's hammer cocking back.

"I also have a pistol here. It has fifteen rounds, and I have four extra magazines on my belt. I also have a dozen soldiers around me with fully charged plasma pistols, totaling about five hundred shots between them all. I know enough about the human anatomy that I could expend all that firepower on one person and leave them alive and conscious . . . And leave a girl with enough of a body to continue screwing her. I'm also great with knives, and I can rig up some electrical equipment around here as a makeshift torture machine. And I have healing magic and a rack of potions, meaning that after I get done with all that . . . I can fix her back up and do it all again.

"Now, Commander, what do you have to say?"

Squall didn't reply. Somewhere inside that long explanation, Squall's jaw had become firmly set, his hands shaking as they clutched the phone or empty air. His face was burning, and intense rage and fury was boiling under his skin. That this man, this bastard, would _dare_ threaten his sister, and that he could do anything he had just outlined to her . . . .

"Oh, Squall," Illarra cut in, her voice low, and very pleased. It almost seemed . . . _aroused._ "I look at you. I see your hands shaking. I see your red face, you teeth clenched under your lips, your eyes burning with hatred. I can see that I'm already working you over, you're already understanding how helpless you are, and how much I am hurting you at this very moment. I can see you hate me, Squall. I can see your pain, your fury, your outrage . . . Squall, seeing you like this just makes me so _hot._"

Squall didn't immediately answer her, instead closing his eyes and thinking, hard. It wasn't easy, with dozens of emotions swirling under the surface in that moment; fury, shock, fear, anxiety, confusion, hatred . . . .

Squall opened his eyes, and stared straight ahead, narrowing them as he settled on one emotion to feel: anger.

"Maybe I should just have Simmons go rape her now?" Illarra asked, and Squall's pulse spiked at the sick pleasure she was taking with the thought. "How angry would that make you, Squall?"

He didn't respond. He didn't need to; she already knew how enraged he would be if she did that. But at the same time, Squall understood the position he was in.

"Well, then, let's get down to business, Squall," Illarra explained. "I'll lay the terms out, quite simply. You do exactly as I say. From this moment on, you will do precisely what I order you to do. If you don't, Simmons puts a bullet into a nonessential part of your sister and then gets to relieve his hard-on. And you'll be listening to it, too, Commander. Understood?"

Squall did not reply for a moment, but then finally spoke.

"Understood," he snarled.

"Of course, understanding simply means comprehension," Illarra replied, seeming to read Squall's thoughts precisely. "That's all I need, though. If you do not do what I say, bad things happen to your sister. So, you really have to obey me."

"What do you want?" Squall demanded. On the other end, Illarra laughed, a pleasant sound that lacked any pleasure or joy whatsoever.

"What else, Squall?" Illarra replied. "I want you to suffer. One way or the other you will hate me and yourself by the end of this day. Either you betray your sister to torment and rape . . . or you betray Garden, and the entire world."

* * *

-

* * *

Well, now. That's not good news. What's going to happen to Squall? What evil plans does Illarra have in store for him? And what of Irvine and Selphie?

Well, I'm not going to tell you guys. :P Next chapter we get an inkling of what's happening with Laguna and Zell, and just what Squall will have to go through in this really bad day.

References abound here, most notably the obviously 24-style storyline that's cooking up here. If you saw the first season, you may have an idea of what's in store for Squall. Also, many Resident Evil 4 references, especially the white-robed badguys.

And now, ripping off Prodigy, its . . . . **Peptuck's Shout-Outs!**

Chris Ganale: Actually, the infiltrator was just wearing standard Estharian armor.And Lex's fighting style is sort of a mix between Kenshin's and Johnny's from Guilty Gear. Funny you mention Hoth, by the way, I've got a few ideas there.

Oh, and Elites pwn Stormtroopers any day of the week. :P

Solid Shark: Trust me, you've not seen anything yet.

Kimahrigirl: Don't get too attached to the unique, new characters. They're pretty good, but, well, you never know what's going to happen.

DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Well, this chapter answers your question, doesn't it? Simmons is an evil man, isn't he? And oh, yes, Squall is pissed, no question there. I'd like to see that 24-style fic. This is heavily base doff that (my opriginal idea was soemthing like "24 Hours in Garden")

BahamuUltima: Oh, that, I don't mind I don't care if you copy/paste my works, just let me know if you're printing it.

Daniel Wesley Rydell: Well, I hope I don't get too sadistic with Simmons, but you never know. Heh.

Anime Obsessed Fan: Laguna may be old, but he can still put up a good fight!

Okay, that everyone? Great. Well, gee, not many reviews this time, huh? For shame, people.I like my reviews, they make me warm and fuzzy.

Until next chapter!


	5. IV: Betrayal

_Chapter 4: Betrayal_

Squall Leonhart rarely felt fear. He had faced down incredible threats in his lifetime, including a powerful Galbadian army and three separate Sorceresses. Fear was something that always did exist within him, but used only as a weapon itself; fear was something to caution and slow him in the face of threats and danger. Fear made Squall aware of his surroundings and what course of action he needed to take. Only when Rinoa had fallen into Ultimecia's coma had he ever felt true fear, paralyzing terror for another person he cared about.

Squall felt fear now. Hew as afraid for Ellone, his sister being held in the clutches of these terrorists. Simmons had outlined the consequences of what would happen if he didn't obey; those consequences filled Squall with not only anger but an underlying terror at what they would do to Ellone if he didn't follow their orders. Some men would have quailed instantly under the demands; others would have violently refused to obey. Squall, however, was simply rooted in his spot, paralyzed by the overwhelming fear of what would happen if he disobeyed.

But rooted in his emotions was a different fear: the fear of betrayal. Illarra was demanding he do something impossible, to act against Garden. This ran counter to every instinct and thought in his mind and soul; turning against Garden was simply impossible. Abandoning it, he had been willing to do. Manipulating Garden, that had already happened when he had taken Rinoa to Esthar. But to directly and actively work against Garden . . . .

"I'll outline the first steps of your employment," Illarra explained. "Quite simple, really. You're going to hang up this phone, walk outside of Garden, and meet with a man smoking a cigarette just outside the main entrance on the FH docks. He'll give you a package, and you'll get the next set of instructions then. You're expected out there in fifteen minutes. Be a second late, and Simmons' leash will be dropped. You can guess what will happen to your sister."

A word Squall rarely spoke found its way onto his tongue, and before he could keep it in check, he spat it out in raw anger at what she was doing to him.

"_Bitch."_ He paused after saying it, surprised at his emotional outburst, and even more so at Illarra's subsequent laughter.

"Oh, yes, Squall, say it again," she whispered, savoring his tone. "I do so love to hear your anger at me. Keep calling me names. Show me your emotions. Make me see how much I'm hurting you. I can tell you're furious at me, and how deeply I'm tearing at your heart. Keep talking, Squall." She paused, and then laughed. "Oh, and fourteen minutes are left. Better hurry. Oh, and don't tell anybody. If anyone finds out what is going on, Simmons will have his fun. I can promise you that."

Squall slammed the phone down onto its cradle, almost breaking the machine. He quickly turned, looking out over the office, and then looked back down to the desk. Moving fast, he opened a drawer, pulling out a standard-issue SeeD sidearm, a 9mm Beretta pistol. He slipped it into his jacket, and glanced down at his waist, seeing his gunblade, the light, deadly blade of Lionheart, strapped to his hip. He always wore his weapon, because he never knew when danger might come. _Like now._

Suitably armed and ready, Squall stormed out of his office, quickly moving down the steps. He headed across the control center, toward the exit, hoping no one would see him or try to get his attention.

He hoped in vain, as Quistis spotted him moving and cut across the room to intercept him.

"Squall, we've gotten updated reports from Galbadian Intelligence," she said, and Squall nodded halfheartedly.

"Give them to Xu for right now," he quickly ordered. "I've got something to take care of."

Quistis nodded, and then looked into Squall's eyes. She stopped, and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in place as well, and turned him around to face her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, snapping quickly, shaking his shoulder free. She looked at him, surprised and shocked at how rude he was acting.

"You're a terrible liar," Quistis quickly shot back. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

"Its none of your-"

"-Business?" Quistis answered, narrowing her eyes. "What's going on? You're acting like you did before you graduated. Something's bothering you."

"You have no idea," Squall muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "I'll tell you later. I need to take care of things. You're in charge until I return, Quistis." She was about to argue, but then shook her head. The look in Squall's eyes told her he was determined to not tell her.

"Fine," she said, sighing. "We'll talk later." She turned and moved back across the room, and Squall spun as well, closing his eyes as he reached the door leading outside toward the elevators.

_You won't want to talk to me later, Quistis._

Squall muttered a curse at Illarra as he walked outside. He swore, if he found her, he would tear her apart for what she was doing to him.

* * *

The deck was cold, pressing up against his cheek. Zell's vision was hazy and watery, and it took him a few moments to fully recover, the blurry interior of the airship's cockpit swirling around him as he regained consciousness. He heard a groan nearby, and pushed himself off the ruined deck, distantly hearing the calls of agitated birds and the oppressive heat of what had to be the tropical island they had seen before the crash. The main view port of the airship was shattered from the crash, and none of the chairs in the bridge remained standing. Debris and blood filled the ruined cockpit. 

Zell turned and saw Captain Reynolds laying on the deck of the airship's cockpit, a shard of glass imbedded on his gut. The Captain was slowly pulling the glass out of his gut, wincing as he did so. Zell quickly glanced around the cockpit, and saw that none of the other bridge crew had survived the crash. The brawler rose and stepped over to the wounded Captain, wincing at the man's injuries.

"Hold on," Zell advised, and he grasped the arm-length shard of glass. Reynolds sucked in his breath, and Zell pulled the shard free, the bloody edge emerging from the man's gut. Reynolds let out a gasp of pain, clutching his belly as blood started pouring out of it, and Zell wasted no time casting a quick curative spell over the wounded man. Zell then located and drew a medical kit from under the broken seat, and quickly applied a bandage to the wounded Captain's stomach.

"Stay here, I'll be back," Zell said quickly. "I need to check on the others." Reynolds nodded, and Zell turned toward the elevator. He winced as he saw the elevator itself out of commission, the power cut in the crash. He'd need to go outside. Zell moved to the broken view port and looked outside.

The _Razor_ had gone down hard, in the middle of the woods on this island. Trees rose up past the wreck of the airship, towering overhead, and the prow of the airship was bent and twisted, the dragon head almost sheared off.

"I'll try to raise some help," Reynolds managed to say, and pulled himself over to the communications console. He pried open a panel in front of the console and removed a small but powerfull radio from a survival case underneath the console.

"Good idea," Zell said, and nodded. The brawler scrambled over the control consoles and out onto the dented, blasted red hull plating outside, and dropped down to the ground about fifty feet below. His boots slammed into the spongy dirt below, churned up by the screaming crash, and he made his way across the ground toward where the passenger deck was located.

Zell found the passenger deck within moments, the glass covering the view port for the observation deck cracked and broken. Zell spotted figures within, at least a few, and ran forward. He vaulted over the broken glass and into the observation deck.

"Everyone okay?" Zell asked, and looked around. Lex, Argus, Fujin, and Raijin were present, as was Laguna. They all looked battered but otherwise not badly wounded, though Laguna sported a bloody bandage around his forehead and the others had bright, painful red cuts across their faces and torn clothes, indicative of healing magic. Raijin walked with a slight limp. A few soldiers and guards were in the room, but they were all down, none moving, apparently killed in the crash.

"No other survivors," Laguna reported, angrily.

"The Captain is alive," Zell said. "He's injured, but once we patch him up he should be safe."

"Until then," Laguna added, "We should stay here. Its relatively safe, and any rescue crews will come here looking for us."

"NEGATIVE," Fujin replied suddenly. "ENEMY."

"Yeah, they'll be looking right here for us too, ya know?" Raijin added. "That airship still has its main cannon, ya know?"

"This hull won't survive another hit," Argus remarked, and Zell nodded.

"The Captain is making a radio call, trying to get help," Zell added. "Once he's done we can retreat into the woods and stay near the wreckage until help arrives."

"Good plan," Laguna said. "Let's move before that airship comes back." The others nodded, but before they could move out of the observation deck, Zell paused, hearing a familiar sound.

"Hey, that sounds like-"

"A Corsair transport's engines!" Laguna finished. "The cavalry has arrived!"

"They got here fast, though," Lex commented as the group moved outside, hearing the high-pitched rumbling of at least two of the Estharian military hovercraft. The looked up into the afternoon sun and spotted a pair of the pastel purple, oblong aircraft swooping in, with another Corsair hovering in the air off the downed airship's bow. The side hatches of the Corsairs swung open, and drop lines descended from the sides of the craft as they moved over the airship. Armored Estharian soldiers dropped out of the sides of the ships, rappelling down onto the hull of the airship and into the broken cockpit.

"They'll get Reynolds onto the ship and pull us out of here," Laguna commented as he and the rest of the group moved out into the open, in clear view of the Corsairs and their crews.

Up in the cockpit, Reynolds looked up with a tired smile at the Estharian soldiers, in full armor, as they moved the interior of the cockpit. He set the radio down, surprised they had gotten here early. He had managed to raise the SeeD airship _Ragnarok_ a moment ago and given the pilot, a Galbadian named Mike, the coordinates, but was even happier to see Estharian rescue forces arriving so quickly.

"Man, am I glad to see you guys," he muttered, sitting up and wincing in pain. The soldiers turned and regarded him, but to his surprise, they didn't move to assist him. In fact, they weren't even acting under standard Estharian evacuation protocols, sweeping the area to secure it from external threats. One man pressed a finger to the side of his helmet.

"Sir," he said calmly, almost emotionlessly. "Got a survivor." He then looked to the pair of men beside him and nodded.

Reynolds stared in blank shock as all three men raised their weapons, leveling them at the downed pilot. Their plasma rifles flashed, their blazing heat searing into the wounded pilot's chest and face.

Down below, the remaining survivors heard the plasma fire from within the cockpit of the ship, and jerked to a halt in the middle of the clearing. Up above, the Corsairs turned, their energy cannons rotating downward to face the exposed group below.

"Fall back!" Zell quickly shouted. "They aren't friendlies! Retreat!" He turned back toward the treeline behind them and pushed Laguna roughly in that direction, as the other SeeDs, along with Fujin and Raijin, made a break for the treeline around the crashed airship. Behind them, the cannons on the Corsairs discharged.

Plasma fire streaked down toward the fleeing survivors, smashing into the ground around them, sending up plumes of molten dirt that rapidly cooled into glassy shards as it hit the ground. A bolt slashed past Zell, nearly taking his arm off and singing his skin as they reached the treeline and ducked beneath the woods. The Corsairs continued firing, plasma chasing after them, ripping into trees and setting them ablaze. Within a few moments, however, the Corsairs ceased fire, and two of the aircraft moved out over the woods in hot pursuit of their prey.

* * *

The salty, cool air of Fisherman's Horizon felt good on Squall's face, but that was the only thing that made him feel positive in any way as he stepped outside. He had pointedly avoided any SeeDs or cadets while leaving Garden, and it took all his self-control to keep Squall's usual stoic expression on his face. He strode purposefully outside the main gates of Garden, not even nodding to the attendant at the entrance, and scanned the exterior, searching for the man smoking the cigarette. His eyes fell upon a single dark-skinned, bald man in a heavy jacket, leaning against a rusted railing, with a suitcase beside him and smoke rising from a cigarette in his mouth. That must have been the contact. 

"Punctual," the man remarked with a smile as Squall came close. The contact reached into a pocket of his jacket and drew a small, round object. Squall narrowed his eyes as he saw it: a disguised transmitter that fit in one's ear. The man tossed it to Squall, and he caught it.

"Illarra wants you to keep that in your ear at all times," the mane explained as he scooped up the briefcase. Squall put the device into his left ear, and heard a shock of static on the other end, before a familiar voice sounded.

"_Great, Squall, great,"_ Illarra said, amused. _"I can tell by your expression that you can hear me. I need to make sure that you can talk to me, as well. Say something, Squall."_

"If you hurt Ellone, I will _kill_ you," Squall snarled, and Illarra laughed on the other end.

"_You're coming through fine, Squall,"_ she replied. _"This earpiece will let me hear you talk and take in all the noises around you, so I can keep track of what you're saying, and to whom. So, don't think you can tell anyone what's going on. Obviously, it lets me talk to you, as well. Now, take the briefcase from my associate."_

Squall reached out, and the man handed the briefcase over to Squall, before turning and walking away without another word. Squall glanced down at the case.

"_Go ahead, open it," _Illarra urged, and Squall did so. He almost wished he hadn't, as he saw the object inside. It was a quartet of long metal tubes, bound together, and connected by a series of wires, to a timer. He knew the design, and what it meant.

"C7 explosive charges," he muttered under his breath, and Illarra chuckled.

"_Enough explosives in that briefcase to level a building,"_ she replied. _"But I have a better use for those bombs than destroying perfectly fine structures."_

"Like what?" Squall asked, and he glanced back at Garden, suddenly afraid.

"_Like seeing you walk back inside Balamb Garden, descending to the MD level, going to the drive system beneath Garden, and setting that bomb right inside it. When the bomb goes off, it'll blow up the entirety of the MD level, wreck the drive systems, and sink Balamb Garden into the ocean."_

* * *

_Alucard: According to Centran and Galbadian mythology, Alucard is the name of the deposed prince and guardian of the City of Dreams, known as Carpasia. It is said that the old gods, among them the great Hyne, were desiring access to the waters of the Zurvan Fountains, said to bring all dreams to life at one's whim, and thus acted to remove the prince Alucard from his city and seize control. Alucard refuted them, and while forced out of his city, was able to seal the City of Dreams from their grasp beyond time and space. He was cursed with wandering the world by the old gods, but laughed this off and viewed his banishment to the mortal realm as a refreshing change of pace. Legends sprang up from numerous local cultures throughout history in both Galbadia and ancient Centra that revolved around the deeds of Alucard, who always passed himself off as a noble gentleman and a "walker of the night."_

Rinoa sat back from the computer screen, intrigued. Now that she had looked up the name in the files in the library, the name "Alucard" popped back into her memory. She had relished the old mythology stories when she was younger, and Alucard had been a recurring character in those stories. She wasn't sure why the man Squall was after was going by this name, but she knew that people took such names for a reason.

Rinoa glanced at the stack books beside her at the desk. She could have spent hours poring through them to dig up references to Alucard, but for the most part they simply mentioned similar legends and tales about the mythological figure, and she knew they had no relevance to this mystery man. He wasn't recorded in any modern history books, after all. There were no recent references to him when she had checked the online index. Searching the library books would have resulted in a dead end.

Rinoa sighed and stood up, hefting the books and putting them into the book return slot on the wall near the desk. Aside from some interesting legends, this search would turn up just about nothing useful. She closed the entry on the terminal and headed out of the library. The Sorceress walked outside and headed toward the elevators and the Garden headquarters on the top floor.

As she rounded the walkway and the central platform that the elevators were housed on, she spotted Squall heading up the stairs toward the elevator as well, and quickly hurried up to catch him. He seemed distracted, she saw as she neared him, carrying a briefcase in one hand with the other fingering the handle of his gunblade.

"Hey," she said as she slipped in behind him, near the elevators. Squall turned around, a bit surprised, and then relaxed as he saw her.

"Rinoa," he breathed, and she sensed a degree of relief wash off him, followed an instant later by sudden apprehension. What was going on? He looked tense, and she could tell from his eyes that something was bothering him, something that seemed to be . . . Angering him?

"What's wrong?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder and searching his eyes with her own gaze. He reflexively closed them and turned his head away fro an instant, breaking the empathetic link.

"Noth . . . No, something is," he said quietly, looking beck to her, then glancing down at his briefcase.

"What?" she inquired, and he shook his head.

"I can't talk about it," he whispered, looking back down at his case.

"Something to do with the conference?" Rinoa asked, and he took a breath, as if steeling himself.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "It has to do with the conference. I . . . I'm sorry, I have to go." He turned quickly, toward the elevator, and hit the call button.

"Wait, Squall!" Rinoa protested, stepping after him, and then suddenly, impulsively, he spun toward her. She was a bit surprised when he wrapped his left hand around her, threading it up to the back of her neck, and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her. It took Rinoa several moments to react, before pulling him in tightly, inhaling his scent and reciprocating the kiss. She felt exhilarated by it, as if he was putting all of his heart into this kiss.

A few moments later, he broke away, and Rinoa looked into his eyes as he canted his head forward, touching his forehead with her own. They seemed strange, almost as if he was about to start . . . crying?

"I'm sorry," he breathed after a moment, and then stepped away back toward the elevator, which had arrived at that moment. He moved inside and quickly hit the close button, and the doors shut. Squall looked to Rinoa, his expression repeating those last words as he dropped away, toward the basement of Garden.

Rinoa watched him leave, confused, and touched a hand to her lips. Squall had rarely kissed her that passionately before, once on the balcony of Garden under the starlight, and again the night they had learned of her pregnancy a couple of years ago. There were a few other incidents, all of them memorable in one respect or another, and all significant. But there was something final in this kiss, as if . . . .

Almost as if Squall expected it to be their last one.

As Rinoa pondered this, Squall stood in the descending elevator, clenched fist trembling in fury. He spun around, and punched the wall of the elevator, his enhanced strength denting it slightly.

"_Damn you,"_ he muttered, and Illarra's mocking laughter sounded in his ear.

* * *

Simmons idly walked around the interior of the empty communications room, twirling his silenced pistol in his hand, rolling it around the trigger guard and his index finger. The mercenary kept his eyes on the girl kneeling in front of him, a smile on his lips as he stared at her. As he walked around behind her, he licked his lips, waiting impatiently for Illarra to give him the order. 

"Man, how easy it would be," he muttered, watching Ellone. She didn't bother raising her head up to face her captor, which irritated Simmons. He continued pacing around her as she stared down at the metal deck in front of her, the manacles on her wrists and ankles binding her tightly.

"No one would know if I did it, either," Simmons said darkly, pausing in front of her, grinning. "Just drag you into the back room, and . . . ." he chuckled. Ellone didn't answer, and Simmons' grin faded, replaced by a snarl.

"Look at me," he hissed, and she didn't move. He leveled his pistol at her head, and cocked the hammer back loudly.

"I gave you an order," he growled, and then grabbed her by the top of her hair, pulling her head back roughly. She gasped in pain, a nice sound, satisfying to Simmons as he pulled on her hair, and stared into her eyes, which were full of fear, despite how much she tried to hide it. There. Now he was getting a response. He jabbed the silenced pistol into her throat, just under her jaw, and his smile returned.

"That's right," he said, satisfied. "You're scared of me, just the way you should be-"

"Let her go," came a dark, gravelly voice from behind Simmons, and the mercenary turned, scowling. After a second, he released Ellone and slid his pistol back into its holster as he turned to face the man who had walked into the comms room.

"Under whose authority?" Simmons asked, the man, who stepped further into the room. Despite Simmons' challenge, was intimidated by the muscular, powerfully built man who he was addressing. The man was of average height, but had to weigh nearly two hundred pounds. He had a thin face, strong but ugly, with a few scars criss-crossing over his cheeks. A black military muscle shirt was pulled tightly over his frame, accompanied by a pair of military khaki pants, heavy brown combat boots, and a black belt laden with gear. Fingerless gloves covered his hands. A knife was sheathed on his left shoulder, and a pair of handguns were holstered on his hips. On his back was a long, scoped, semi-automatic sniper rifle. His blonde hair was shaved and tucked under a blue beret, matching the color of his piercing, vicious eyes as he regarded Simmons, a snarl on his thin lips.

"The Director's," responded Major Eric Malachi. "Who else?"

"I take my orders from Illarra, not the Director," replied Simmons.

"And Illarra reports to the Director," Malachi added. "Not to mention this is _my_ base here. While you're here, you play under _my_ rules. And don't forget, it was _my_ men who captured your little hostage, too."

"And its Illarra that's keeping all of SeeD from dropping the heavy end of the hammer on your base," Simmons replied. "And that's all because of my little hostage."

"We don't need you to keep a hostage secure," Malachi responded with a warning tone. "Remember, the Director only wants Leonhart incapacitated. Holding his sister attains that. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Illarra didn't care whether you were the one keeping the hostage or not." Simmons had no immediate reply, so he shifted the subject.

"Have your men finished searching the wreck?"

"All crew are confirmed dead," Malachi answered. "We finished off the pilot, and found the bodies of most of the survivors. President Loire's body was not found. He was probably killed in the train strike. There are survivors, but we're chasing them down."

"Don't assume that Loire is finished," Simmons replied, though he smiled at the knowledge that the _Razor's_ crew was all dead. "He has a tendency to survive these types of things."

"We assume nothing," Malachi responded. "If Loire is alive, he won't be for long. Until then," Malachi nodded toward Ellone. "If I catch you trying anything funny without a direct order from Illarra, I _will_ kill you, understand?"

"Tch," Simmons responded, and Malachi walked outside. "Just my luck. The Director's personal stooge has morals. Who'd have thought?" He looked to Ellone. "You got a bit of protection, little girl, but only as long as your brother stays under our thumbs. He doesn't, and, well, heh."

Ellone did not respond, instead only casting a single glare at Simmons before looking away.

* * *

"Sir!" said one of the two technical SeeDs on duty in the MD level as Squall entered the room containing the drive system. Squall returned the SeeDs' salutes, not even having time to be annoyed, and looked up at the drive system. It had been repainted, the rusted, brown-gray metal replaced with a smooth black and silver finish, and the ancient Centran consoles surrounding the engine had been replaced with modern consoles. The whole room looked as beautiful and artistic as the rest of Balamb Garden, one of Headmaster Cid's personal touches. 

"Good morning, Commander," the other SeeDs asked, sitting down at his station. "What brings you down here?" The two SeeDs on duty had the job of supervising the engine's operations, a dull and boring job reserved for new SeeD engineers and cadet engineers in training.

"I needed to check something," Squall lied, walking closer to the SeeDs and looking up at the engine as the strange device turned and rotated silently before them.

"What do you need to see?" asked the other SeeD, and Squall set the briefcase down on the deck. He turned to face the SeeD, and then snapped his arm up into an uppercut that threw the SeeD off his feet. He spun on the other SeeD, who stood up in shock, and channeled magic out through his palm. Waves of drowsiness swept over the SeeD, and he stumbled forward into Squall's rising snap-kick to the nose. The SeeD fell to the deck, unconscious.

Squall whirled on the other SeeD as he rose, and fell upon his with a rapid series of punches and knees that quickly subdued the shocked technician. Moments later, Squall had trussed up the two SeeDs with their belts, securing their sidearms and drawing their Guardian Forces.

"Sorry," he muttered to the unconscious technicians as he was tying them up, but left the restraints loose. Illarra wouldn't know if he left the restraints loose enough that the SeeDs could wiggle out of them in a couple of minutes' time . . . .

"_Very good, Squall,"_ Illarra purred. "_Now, the package."_

Squall set the stolen GF stones out on one of the consoles in full view of the SeeDs once they awoke, walked back to the bomb and opened the case, taking the explosive out. At Illarra's direction, he reluctantly set the bomb at the base of the whirling engine gears.

"_Set the timer to exactly two hours and fifteen minutes from now,"_ she ordered. Squall frowned as he heard the order. That was at about the time the conference was going to begin, and the world leaders were going to speak before the international press. Squall slowly pressed each of the keys, setting the timer to the time indicated. Each press of a button sent waves of anger and guilt through him, knowing he was possibly sealing Garden's fate as he did so.

"Time's set," he hissed.

"_Good,"_ Illarra replied, obviously very happy with what he was doing. _"Now, to your left there should be a small alcove behind one of the consoles, at about waist-height. Reach inside, there should be a package."_ Squall did as he was told, turning and reached down into the alcove in the wall she had mentioned. His hands touched a rectangular case, about the size of a small briefcase, and he pulled it out.

"_Open it,"_ Illarra ordered, and he did so. Within was a sleek pistol, painted black, with a single magazine and a silencer to be threaded onto the barrel. He looked down at the weapon, and scowled.

"You put this here, didn't you?" he asked, and Illarra chuckled, which was all the answer he needed. "Then why use me to set the bomb if you had access to the MD level?"

"_Because you set the bomb, Squall, obviously,"_ Illarra answered. _"I want you to be the one guilty for destroying Garden. All the blame will lay on your shoulders . . . Just how I want it to be. Now, take the pistol out and conceal it inside your jacket."_ Squall did as she was directed, loading the pistol, threading the silencer onto the end, and putting it and inside his jacket pocket.

"What next?" Squall asked, spitting out the words, wanting to know what he'd be doing with the gear.

"_You're going to leave the MD level,"_ Illarra replied. _"You'll go outside, head up to the elevator, rise up to the third floor, walk through the main control center of Garden, and ascend into Headmaster Cid Kramer's office."_

Squall's blood ran cold, and he knew what Illarra was going to say before she gave him the order.

"_And then you'll use that pistol to assassinate the Headmaster, right where he sits."_

* * *

Oh, jeez, Squall's day was bad enough already, wasn't it? Next chapter, more of Squall's trials, and we learn more of Irvine and Selphie's troubles. 

This chapter was rather short, in my opinion. I usually make them longer, but when they're heavy on dialogue like this one, its hard to get them very long. Anyway, this chapter is just setting up for some of the more intense moments later on in the story. More 24-type elements as well. In fact, the 24 influence will be getting much heavier over the next few chapters, and soon we may see a return of our favorite Hellsing-inspired character!

**Peptuck's Shout-Outs**

**Sherif:** Mwaha! Yes, I'm being mean! Descriptions of the other SeeDs may not be forthcoming (would seem awkward to describe them now that they've already been established) They're kind of like generic SeeDs, in a way, like Star Trek red-shirts that get names. :P Ramuh, if you remember, is a summon in some of the earlier FF games, and he is obviously present here. Much has yet to be revealed, trust me.

**Chris Ganale:** Well, that makes me grin, knowing my villians are that bad. Trust me, Simmons will have a bad end, though whether that's before he harms Ellone or after, I won't say.

And the collaboration is of interest. I've publicized my email, shoot me some of your ideas, eh?

**Solid Shark: **Oh, yes, FFVI reference in Sabin. (more of a Prodigy reference, actually, to the charcater he created for Ultimecia Affair)

**OniRazz:** The story is actually going to get signifigantly darker. Squall's not going to be happy when all is finished . . . .

**Prodigy:** Eh, I meant I ripped you off in naming my shout-outs. Perhaps I should give them a pretentious title? Hm.

**Spikestrife:** Thanks! When I leave my reviewers speechless, I get happy.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** This is an amalgamation of the first and second seasons, actually, the personal nature of Illarra and Squall's emnity combiend with the major destruction of the second season of 24. Squall is going to have the specter of threats against his family or a while, at least.

The snitch . . . no, its not Xu. Wait till you find out who the traitor in Garden really is!

If you've got ideas, maybe shoot 'em to me via email? I could help you out, y'know. If you would like some help, of course. My mail is public now.

**Xephon:** Wait until you find out Illarra's motivations for hating Squall. The conflict is very personal.

**Darkchampion: **Irvine is just really damn good. :P

**Kaiser:** Remember what I told you? All those thigns I was going to do to Squall in this fic ares till going to happen in one way or another, heh. I am a very mean author, but our heroes will pull through, hopefully.

**Kimahrigirl: **I feel safe revealing this . . . Seifer won't be executed. His role is going to be pretty cool once we get to him. (soon . . . within a few chapters, heh)

**Anime Obsessed Fan:** Oh, about those conspiracies . . . trust me, this one runs very, very deep.

**E:** I was considering an RE4 novelization myself, but that would be a challenge (killing all them Ganados would be one hell of a challenge to write, heh)

**Karaoke Risa:** Thank you! I was worried I wasn't doing the suspense properly . . . thanks for convincing me otherwise.

That all? Great. I need to get to work on Synthesis, Legacy, and another project percolating in my mind. What is it? I won't tell! Not yet, at least, but it does follow in the footsteps of Gunblade _and_ Synthesis. . . .

Until next chapter!


	6. V: Treachery

_**Chapter 5: Treachery**_

Squall laid his head back on the wall of the elevator, just above the dent he'd pounded in it. Illarra was asking him to do something even worse than bomb Balamb Garden. Assassinate the Headmaster? Cid Kramer, the man who had created Garden in the first place?

Squall had never been "close" friends with the Headmaster. Before he'd been named Commander, Cid had been his superior, the symbol of Balamb Garden and its effective commanding officer. Squall was simply another cadet or SeeD under his authority. Upon being elevated to Commander, Squall and Cid were effectively colleagues, something that had taken Squall some time to adjust to. In the last few years, Squall and Cid remained co-workers, though each had his distinct style of command; Cid was easygoing and casual, and Squall was efficient and more formal. The two remained comrades, though not friends, partially due to Squall's standoffish nature and their differences in style. Cid was out a lot as well, participating in the reconstruction of Trabia and surveying sites for the new Garden in Esthar.

Cid was a good man, and the center of Garden, its moral compass and the one who held its dream in his heart. If he died, Garden would feel the repercussions down to its very foundations . . . And if it was Balamb Garden's own Commander who did the assassination, the most celebrated hero in Garden's history . . . .

The bomb wouldn't be needed to destroy Garden. That explosive was just the final punctuation mark on what would happen if Garden's two senor officers ended up dead or vilified.

As the elevator rose, Squall considered his options. They were watching him, no question. Someone was keeping an eye on him in the command center, or someone had set up a means of observing him.

It had to be small, covert, unobtrusive. Likely multiple ones, if they were keeping track of him as he moved around the main operations room. But their reach was limited, he figured; they hadn't been able to watch him inside the MD Level, after all. If the cameras were small, or it was an observer, that had to mean that whoever it was had to be close, likely within FH at best.

Once he figured out how he was being observed, he might be able to track down the enemy, and when that happened . . . .

Squall's hand tightened around his gunblade's handle.

There would be a reckoning, no question.

* * *

They had run through the woods and snow for what felt like hours, their eyes constantly roving the forest, the screams and shouts of their white-clad enemies constantly in their ears.

"Where do they keep coming from?" Irvine muttered as he saw one of their attackers leaping over a log, stepping into their path. He fired a blast from his hip, a buckshot round blowing the man off his feet, and Victor paused to gut the prone enemy as they passed him.

None of the other SeeDs answered him as they dashed through the forest. A whirling axe flew past them, and another enemy lurched out of the trees, screaming an incoherent battle-cry as he swung a sword at Selphie's head. She ducked beneath the attack and replied instantly, a blast of flame hurling the white-robed foe into a small copse of trees. Victor had to whirl to knock aside a scythe one of the madmen was swinging, and stabbed the man in the throat before rushing on.

From what they could tell, the only thing that kept the trio alive at that point was their constant retreat. The enemy was everywhere, closing in all around them from a dozen directions at once. They ran with all their strength, yet somehow their foes simply kept appearing from the trees by the dozens, as if waiting for them in the darkness of the forest.

Irvine trudged through the snow, right behind Selphie and just ahead of Victor, who kept covering their rear. The two Trabians seemed to know where they were headed, to a degree; Selphie was leading the group determinedly through the woods, though Irvine honestly hoped she wasn't just running them in circles.

A white-clad madman loomed up ahead suddenly, screaming and waving an axe in the air. Selphie ducked and spun out to the side, giving Irvine the moment he needed to level his rifle at his opponent. The man took a shotgun blast to the gut and fell back, but managed to right himself long enough to hurl the axe at Irvine. The sharpshooter sidestepped quickly, out of the path of the axe, and fired again, this time pulverizing the man's chest and throwing him to the snow.

"Go, go!" Irvine quickly shouted, and turned back to Victor. He froze when he saw the Trabian SeeD clutching his right thigh, which apparently had squarely caught the flying axe. He wrenched the blade free, blood gushing out over his leg, and Irvine had to fire a shot past him to eliminate a spear-wielding foe rushing at his back. Selphie ran past him and grabbed Victor's hand, pulling the wounded SeeD along, who quickly started to limp after the others as fast as he could, his face locked in pain as blood streamed down his leg.

* * *

Every step Squall took off the elevator felt as if his boots were filled with cast iron. He walked forward slowly, deliberately, not thinking of anything but advancing. Mercifully, Illarra remained silent in his ear, not speaking, otherwise he might have done something rash, like stop and tear the earpiece out, and damn Ellone to pain and torture.

The doors were opened by the courteous SeeD guard, and Squall nodded only out of reflex to the well-meant "Welcome back, sir" the man gave him. He moved into the main operations room, and paused, looking over his people as they worked hard to handle the information coming in. Things seemed to have changed since h e was last in there; the noise level had quadrupled, and everyone was moving around frantically.

Had they figured things out? Did they know what was going on? Part of Squall wished they didn't, so that he could protect Ellone, and part of him hoped they had, and knew what was happening to him. He even momentarily entertained the notion of SeeD teams rushing to rescue his sister, but threw the idea aside. It was just a fantasy, and nothing could prevent him from what he was being forced to do at that moment.

"Squall," Xu said suddenly, moving through the forest of desks and scrambling SeeDs, directly toward Squall. "Squall, we just received word from Mike Devine, the pilot who was ferrying our teams to their missions a few hours ago."

"What?" he asked, distractedly.

"He confirmed that there was an attack on the train that President Loire was using," Xu explained, and Squall paused, looking to her.

"Survivors?"

"None that Mike could find," Xu replied grimly. "He couldn't be sure, because the train cars were blown apart. Mike says he did receive a distress signal from one of the airships escorting the President, but it was cut off. He's investigating now. Esthar's sent troops to investigate as well, and they've also confirmed the destruction of the train."

Squall didn't answer, but he knew this was merely further confirmation. Zell and Laguna were dead, and Ellone was their hostage. He looked away, clenching his fist, and setting his jaw.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Zell was a good SeeD, and the President was-"

"I know," Squall responded. "Ell . . . ." he trailed off, not wanting to speak her name, and closed his eyes. "She was supposed to be on the train, too."

"Ellone?" Xu asked, and Squall nodded.

"I . . . I'm sorry," she said,a nd Squall looked up,s haking his head.

No time," he said quickly. "I'll need to speak with the Headmaster. He's in his office, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Xu replied with a nod. Squall left her without another word, moving quickly toward Cid's office, and rapidly up the steps to where the Headmaster had based his office, right across from Squall's own. He quickly opened the door, and stepped in.

"Yes, Kayte," Cid was saying on the phone. He looked up and saw Squall. "Get those reports as soon as possible. Thank you." He quickly hung up the phone, and nodded toward Squall. "You've heard the news."

Squall nodded. The Headmaster looked much like he always had, a portly man with thick brown hair, wrinkled, smiling features, and a collection of stubborn stubble on his chin. Large glasses sat on his prominent nose. His features were a bit more wrinkled, and some gray hairs were working their way into his hair, but he still seemed spry, though obviously gravely concerned about the recent events.

"Xu briefed me," Squall said stiffly. He glanced to the windows overlooking the room, and then back to Cid. "Can we have some privacy?"

"Of course," Cid replied, and tapped a button on his desk. Blinds along the window rotated, and blocked off outside view of what was happening in the room.

"Squall, I know what has happened," Cid began to say, and shook his head. "Hyne, Zell was one of our best, and he was one of your friends. Then President Loire, as well as Ellone . . . ."

"Its difficult," Squall replied, not wanting to say anything else. How in the hell was he going to do this? To shoot the Headmaster . . . . It was almost unthinkable.

"Are you up to commanding Garden right now?" Cid asked, and the question surprised Squall. He didn't immediately respond, and clenched his fists again as anger shot through his mind.

_I'm not fit to command anything, not with this damn terrorist with a personal vendetta I now nothing about holding a gun to my sister's head. She murdered Zell, Laguna, all those people on that train, and is going to destroy Garden . . . And wants me to kill Cid Kramer, founder and Headmaster of Garden. And what the hell _for

"Squall, what is it?" Cid asked as he watched Squall, curious as to his odd, introverted behavior. He could tell that things were amiss from the way Squall was acting. "Something's wrong."

Squall took a breath, and looked toward the closed blinds of the office.

"Yes," he whispered. "Something is very wrong."

"What is it?" Cid asked. "Does it have anything to do with the attack on the President's train?"

"Yes, sir, it does," Squall replied, looking down at the floor, his hands trembling. He couldn't bring himself to look at the Headmaster, knowing what he was about to do. In fact, he couldn't even open his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the reality of the situation.

"'Sir?'" Cid echoed, confused. "Squall, you haven't called me that for years, now. We're both of the same rank." He paused, analyzing Squall's odd behavior and his unconscious return to calling Cid as a superior. "Tell me, what's going on? You know something."

"Yes, Headmaster," Squall replied, and slowly shook his head. "I wish I could tell you what it was, but I can't."

"Why not?" Cid asked insistently.

_Because I'm about to put three bullets into your forehead!_ Squall's mind screamed.

"Its . . . Complicated," Squall replied unconvincingly.

"_Stop stalling, Squall,"_ Illarra's voice cut in without warning, jolting Squall. The Commander opened his eyes, staring at the deck in front of his feet. _"Take him out, now."_

"I can't," Squall muttered.

"What?" Cid asked, and Squall looked up, meeting Cid's eyes. There was an exchange between the older man and the younger man, a sudden mutual understanding, and a moment later, Squall's hands were holding the pistol, leveling the silenced weapon at Cid's forehead. The Headmaster looked only slightly surprised, and then, a moment later, understanding. His expression did not show fear, or anger, or betrayal. Instead, it merely showed . . . Comprehension, and also a lack of it, at the same time.

"What's going on, Commander?" Cid asked after a moment, watching the trembling pistol in Squall's hand.

"I wish I was at liberty to say, Headmaster," Squall replied after a tense second.

"_Shoot him,"_ Illarra demanded in Squall's ear. He ignored her, focusing on Cid, sitting before him, apparently unafraid.

"Why?" Cid asked, and Squall shook his head. "I know you, Squall. You're not doing this of your own free will. What's going on?"

"Something terrible," Squall replied. "If I don't do this . . . ."

"The terrorists will do something," Cid replied, nodding after a moment. "I see. Who or what is it?"

"I can't say," Squall responded. He moved his thumb up, cocking the hammer back on his pistol. "I'm sorry." His finger tightened around the trigger, and then stopped. Squall couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to fire.

"Garden was founded for charitable means," Cid suddenly told Squall. "Our purpose is to protect the world from threats. We must do whatever it takes to protect those in danger. If my death is required to save even one person from pain and suffering . . . ." The Headmaster straightened in his chair. "I am prepared to give it."

"Sir . . . ." Squall said, shaking his head slowly. "Don't . . . don't make me want to shoot. I don't want to do this."

"_Shoot him, now!"_ Illarra demanded. Squall closed his eyes, shaking his head again.

"They will hurt countless people if I live," Cid replied, slowly taking off his glasses. "My life exists so that Garden can exist. I've devoted my life to protecting life. If my death saves others, I'll gladly accept it."

Squall looked to Cid again, and another mutual wave of understanding passed between the two men. Squall inhaled slowly, and his finger tightened again around the pistol's trigger. _If the Headmaster is willing to die . . . ._

"_Forgive me."_

"_Now kill him, Squall,"_ Illarra ordered. _"Finish it."_

In the deafening silence that filled the office at that moment, only one sound could be heard clearly.

The door swung open behind the standing Commander, and Xu walked in.

"Sir, we have the-" she stated, and then shot forward at Squall, seeing the pistol in his hands, leveled at the Headmaster. He said flashed out as Squall turned, off-guard, and both blades jabbed at his chest. Squall took a step back, and swept his arms across, catching Xu's arms by the wrists and throwing them out wide, purely by reflex. He countered with a quick, unthinking knee to her stomach, knocking her back, and followed through as she was tossed back against the wall of the office with a swinging punch aimed at her jaw.

One of Xu's sai shot up, catching his hand as it came in, and Squall recoiled, the blade driving between his ring and middle fingers. Xu pushed off the wall and slammed into Squall, knocking him backward, and spun around into a kick that impacted the Garden Commander in the chest and launched him back. He tore through the blinds protecting Cid's office, and smashed through the glass outside of it, and crashed down hard onto the floor of the main room, his pistol clattering away.

Squall was momentarily dazed, and his hand screamed at him in pain, but he didn't move as Xu dropped from the Headmaster's second-story office and dropped right on top of him, planting both her sai dangerously close to his throat.

"Call Security!" she ordered quickly, not taking her eyes off Squall's face. "Have them up here immediately and place the Commander under arrest!"

"Ma'am?" asked one of the many Seeds standing up and looking at the sudden commotion.

"Now!" she ordered. "He was attacking the Headmaster! Get Security immediately!"

Squall simply lay on his back, unmoving, keenly feeling the blades pressed against his throat. His face was locked in an impassive, stone-like visage, which his the shock and desperation he was feeling at that moment.

"_Not good, Squall,"_ Illarra said, as a trio of SeeDs with the shoulder insignia Garden's internal security force hauled him to his feet. They quickly drew his Guardian Forces from him, before handcuffing the Commander. The hauled him off immediately, Xu following, and with Cid watching from his office, everyone confused as to what had just happened.

"_Not good at all. Your sister won't be happy to hear this while Simmons has his way with her . . . ."_

* * *

The enemy kept closing in all around the trio. A whirling axe flew past Irvine's head, almost taking his life, and buried into a tree beside him. A slashing sword chopped toward Selphie, but she stepped aside and countered with a whirling nunchaku that smashed the madman's nose. Irvine ran on, Selphie right beside him, and Victor bringing up the rear, limping as fast as he could, blood still pouring down his leg.

"Can you keep up?" Selphie asked, looking back at their wounded comrade, and he waved a hand in the air.

"I'm fine!" he shouted, denying the seriousness of his injury. Selphie and Irvine glanced to one another quickly, both understanding just how bad the situation was. At the rate Victor was bleeding, and how fast he was running, he would bleed to death eventually.

They didn't have time to treat him, and Victor knew this. They could only run on as fast as they could. Irvine rushed up ahead, and started to round a small hill, when he heard a scream of rage beside him, and a white-robed figure rose up, raising a scythe in his hands. Irvine shattered his skull with a well-placed shotgun blast, and jumped over his corpse, running down the rough path they were following. The trio ducked through a small copse of trees and hit a long stretch of clear ground, flanked by trees. They ran on for a moment, and only after a few seconds did they realize, with a start, that the screams and roars had stopped.

Irvine slowed, as did Selphie and Victor, and turned around, scanning the trees. The forest itself was till, silent, and undisturbed, as if the dozens of madmen had simply vanished into the snowy woods.

"Okay," Selphie said after a tense moment. "Where are the badguys?" The others didn't answer her, instead looking to the forest warily. Nothing moved, and there was not even a whisper of noise. The forest was still and deathly silent.

"Nothing," Irvine said, and looked back to Victor, who was taking the momentary reprieve to quickly cast a healing spell over his wound. He tore off part of his jacket and used it as a makeshift bandage, tightening it around the gash. As he was patching himself up, the other two SeeDs watched the forest, slowly turning their heads, confused but glad for the reprieve, though they felt as if things were just preparing to get worse.

"Selphie, we should go, _now,"_ Irvine muttered after a moment, and she nodded, glancing to Victor, who was finishing up with the bandage. As Irvine scanned the forest, he looked own the path they were standing on, and froze.

"Selphie." She glanced up to where he was looking, and paused as well, equally shocked to see what stood before them.

The girl in the black dress stood about twenty feet down the path, looking over them curiously. It was the same mystery girl that they had spotted outside the cabin, wearing the exact same black dress with the white trim at the top. He skin was still pale, and the air behind her seemed to ripple with what looked like white and black vapors. She was looking over the SeeDs with a curious, almost childlike stare, as surprised to see them as they were to see her.

"Hello," she said quietly, breaking the silence, and giving them a polite nod.

"Hi," Irvine replied uncertainly. There was another moment of silence between them, as the girl continued sizing them up. The others did so as well, with Irvine and Selphie both confused. Irvine hadn't been certain of it before, but he was now: there was something distinctly familiar about her face . . . .

The girl glanced at Victor, and saw his wound. Her eyes widened slightly.

"You're hurt," she said, seeming a bit concerned. Victor waved his hand in the air.

"I'll survive," he responded, looking back behind them for any threats.

"What are you out here for?" the girl asked. "Not very many people come out this far into the woods anymore . . . ."

"We didn't have much of a choice," Selphie responded. "Those guys in the white clothes were chasing us."

"Men in white?" the girl asked, and she glanced around at the woods. "Oh, no, they're doing it again . . . ."

"Doing what?" Irvine asked, looking around as well.

"They kill anyone who comes into the woods," she responded sadly. "I saw them kill some poor hunters on the edge of the forest yesterday. I was going to help them, but by the time I got there they were already dead, and the men ran away as I got near."

"They didn't attack you?" Selphie asked, and the girl shook her head.

"They never attack me," she replied. "They always run away, like they're scared of me."

"Well, mind is we stick around with you?" Irvine asked with a chuckle. "If they avoid you, we could use the reprieve. They've been chasing us ever since we entered the woods."

"That would be fine," she replied, with a genuine smile. "I haven't seen very many people in the forest for a long time. Not since I left home."

"What's your name?" Selphie asked the girl.

"My parents said my name was Serra," she replied. "They said it was what they were told I was named. But . . . why are you here in the woods? Not very many people actually come to these forests anymore, even before the white men appeared."

"Well, we're on a mission," Selphie replied as they walked closer to Serra. "We were sent out here to investigate some stories people had heard."

"The men in white?" Serra asked, almost to herself. "Yes, I think they would have sent people to investigate with all the killings . . . ."

"Well, not directly," Irvine replied. "The locals hired us to find something they called the Demon. A kid born in a local village a couple of years ago."

Serra froze at Irvine's words, and then quickly looked back and forth between them, surprise and trepidation appearing on her face.

"You're looking for the Demon?" she asked, and Irvine nodded. "I . . . I'm sorry." She began to back away, shaking her head. "I . . . I have to go now."

"Wait!" Irvine began to say, but Serra spun and began to run away. Irvine started after her, but she was fast, far faster than the SeeDs, running very quickly over the snow. It took the SeeDs a moment to realize that she wasn't actually running, and that her feet had started to hover over the snow as she fled. Moments later, she had almost passed out of sight.

"Well, that's not good," Victor muttered. "Let's get after her, she may know a safe place."

"Yeah, but there's definitely something strange about her," Selphie added. "Not just that aura or her flying. She's familiar somehow. Like . . . I don't know. I know I've seen her face _somewhere_."

Her musing was suddenly cut off as a scream resounded in the woods around her.

"Run!" Irvine shouted immediately, and they shot down the path as fast as they could, clearly hearing the roaring cries of the white-clad madmen as they resumed the chase. They had to find Serra. If she was right, she would be able to keep them safe from this unending stream of foes.

* * *

The view of Esthar was wonderful, as always. Nearly every office in the Palace had access to either a window showing the cityscape, or a holographic projector that did the same. This office was the same, showing the width and breadth of the might city, unmarred from the monster invasion of three years ago.

The man standing at the window, looking over this city, turned away from it as he heard the last of his audience sitting down in the seats arrayed before his desk.

"Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you all here on such short notice," stated the slightly balding, brown haired man, who stood behind the desk. Before him were fifteen men, clad in the decorated robes of high-level Presidential Advisors or the functional robes of the Estharian military, with numerous decorations indicating their high ranks. Within the room were the highest-ranking officials in Esthar. President Laguna Loire's "Wiseman Council".

"We've all heard the news," the man continued, "So, I took the initiative to call the meeting as early as possible. The rest of the country is entirely unaware of what has happened, and before they find out, we must make the important decision as to who we will rally behind."

"Yes, Director Crell," said Head General Kent, looking impatient and annoyed. "We know the purpose of this meeting." The man behind the desk, Director Crell Varines of the Estharian Bureau of Intelligence, nodded.

"Nonetheless, the Estharian Republic's Constitution demands that we do recite the purpose of this meeting," Crell replied. "A useless bit of formality, but it has to be done, considering the legal sharks we have to deal with. I'd prefer to skip it, myself. Anyway, the Constitution states that if the acting President dies or is incapacitated, a private, secret election must take place among the Wisemen's Council to decide which of his closest subordinates acts as President until elections can be arranged for the new President."

"Now that that's said," cut in Economics Advisor Frengis in his raspy, aged voice. "The decision needs to be made. Today is a very important day for the world, and we can't sit by idly while the world peace conference takes place."

"I agree," added the new Foreign Affairs Advisor, Redjick. "We need a leader, and soon. Let's not waste anymore time on formalities. Who should be nominated?"

"General Kent is top of the list," added Head Admiral Teradin. "We all can agree that he General is one of the President's best men." General Kent seemed a bit embarrassed by the instant nomination, but his attention was stolen when Director Crell cleared his throat.

"I may also need to add that Presidential power automatically shifts to the last remaining Wiseman on the Council, if all the others are killed. Though that is an exceptional formality, again."

"It might be relevant," responded Security Advisor Evens, suddenly. "Considering the nature of the terrorist threat, and the reports that it was perpetrated from within our own military, there is the chance that members of the Wisemen may be killed as terrorist targets. We need to remember that provision."

"Yes, Advisor, it is an important provision," Crell added with a nod. "My intelligence sources are suspecting hat the enemy may be part of the Neo-Adelist movement, which, as we know all to well, has infiltrated the military's ranks. We don't know how deep the corruption has spread. I would advise caution." Crell looked around the room carefully. "It could even have spread into this chamber."

"Nonsense!" came a shout from somewhere, but that was drowned under the chorus of firm, vicious denials.

"Director," General Kent managed to state over the other's words. "Are you insinuating that one of President Loire's most trusted advisors is in league with extremists trying to bring back the rule of Adel in Esthar?"

"Insinuating?" Crell said, and suddenly, a dark smile cut across his face as he looked around the room, at the old men gathered here. He stared each one of them in the eye, evaluating them. "General, what if I told you that my intelligence has confirmed that a member of the Neo-Adel movement is inside this chamber, right now?"

Silence greeted that bombshell, and the Wisemen glanced around, looking at one another with new suspicion.

"Who?" breathed another Advisor from somewhere.

"The most important and dangerous person in this room, of course," Crell replied. He closed his eyes, and inhaled slowly, almost seeming to savor this breath. Suddenly, the Director snapped to attention, and drew his left hand across his chest, touching his right shoulder.

"_Victrix Adel!"_ the Director shouted, and deafening silence followed his salute and recitation of a line not openly spoken within Esthar in two decades. _"May Adel know victory."_

"You . . . ." Kent hissed. "The Director of Intelligence . . . In league with the Adelists?"

"Not just in league, gentlemen," Crell said quietly, opening his eyes, a vicious smile on his face. "Directly responsible for planning, deploying, supplying, and executing today's assassination."

"You _bastard,_" an older Advisor said, standing up, pointing a disbelieving, trembling finger at Crell, where he stood. "You were working inside our government, the whole time . . . ."

"For two decades," responded Crell with a smile. "In fact, I was behind that dirty little secret you people hid. The little secret that you used SeeD's first class against. SeeD's first contract destroyed my own personal pet project." Crell shook his head. "We were so close too. Artificial Sorceress power . . . ."

"You were Major Virago," accused Evens, and Crell nodded.

"The Virago himself," Crell admitted. "Esthar's most evil, ruthless, and vicious officer and scientist. The man who made even Doctor Hans Odine squeamish. The ultimate fanatic in Adel's service. The man who committed suicide the moment he heard Adel had fallen." Crell paused. "Hm. Maybe we shouldn't be believing stories from so-called 'loyal' men, hm?"

General Kent suddenly pulled a sidearm from his robes, as did the other high-ranking military officials, leveling them at the Director.

"Someone, call Security!" Kent ordered quickly. "Have them arrest the Director."

"Won't work, gentlemen," Crell replied casually, and he chuckled. "I've been practicing my speech for two decades. Can't believe its not all coming back to me now, though, after all this time. I must say, I am nervous. But regardless, you'll find your personal comlinks are disabled. There's a jamming fielding this room."

"Hmph," Kent replied confidently. "We can get around that."

"The doors are also locking," Crell added with a vicious smile, and at his cue, a series of faint clicks could be heard around the chamber. The Wisemen glanced around, shocked and confused, and several of them let out gasps of fear. Crell, meanwhile, glanced at his watch.

"And in the next few moments, a hovercar, laden with enough C7 to blow out half this floor, is headed straight for this room." Crell turned around, and gestured toward the expansive window behind him, where one could see a distant pinprick on the city's horizon, growing larger by the second.

The Wisemen scattered like shrapnel, running toward the doors, beating on the walls, shouting, screaming, yelling, one even praying to Hyne. Crell glanced at that man and laughed at the irony. If only he knew . . . .

Kent, face contorting in rage, rushed at Crell, moving around the desk, and raised his hands to throttle the Director. His hands closed around Crell's throat-

And passed right through.

"Aw, poor General," Crell said, shaking his head condescendingly. "You think I'd reveal my entire plan, and send a remote-controlled bomb at this room, and actually be in here? I've been transmitting through this hologram the whole time. Oh, how I love our modern technology!"

Kent fell away, horror on his expression as he looked out the window, at the rapidly approaching car bomb. Estharian police vehicles were rising up into its path, alerted by its high speed and threatening course, but were in no position to actually stop the flying bomb.

"It'll hit in a couple of seconds," Crell remarked with another laugh. He glanced at his watch. "In exactly three . . . .

"Two . . . .

"One . . . ."

* * *

A blossom of fire shot out of the side of the Presidential Palace, and the holographic images faded to static.

"That was _deeply_ satisfying," Director Crell Varines remarked. He looked around the interior of his hover-limousine, and laughed. "And with the old fools dead, Esthar reverts to the rule of the last surviving Wiseman. Me."

"Congratulations," replied the cool, even voice beside him, and Crell turned his eyes downward, looking at the figure beside him.

Eyes can deceive, and this was the greatest of deceptions. Beside him sat a small girl, looking barely over eight years old, clad in a simple blue dress, with perfectly black hair and deep brown eyes. Her skin was milky white, and she looked out the window of the car with idle amusement. The girl was harmless, at first glance, but Crell knew that to underestimate her would bring instant, absolute death.

"This plan was your idea," Crell stated to the girl. "Without your help, the Elemental Project would never have expanded to what it is now. I would never have risen to this level of power." Crell clenched his hands together. "Esthar is under my thumb now, and soon, the rest of the world as well."

"That serves both our purposes," Crell continued with a smile. "SeeD will soon be annihilated, both from my mole inside and from the actions of its own Commander. Even now, Illarra is turning him against everyone he cares for. The Headmaster is dead or will be soon, and Balamb Garden will sink into the ocean, and soon, the other world leaders . . . ."

"None will live to oppose you, President," the girl said with a smile. "And we will reap our benefits from the Elemental Project. Our own, unique benefits for each of us."

"A fine partnership," Crell stated with a laugh. "This day is the best one I've had since before Adel fell to Loire." Crell slapped the intercom. "Driver!"

"Yes sir?" the man responded.

"Take us to the Palace. I must speak on news of a tremendous tragedy that matches what happened a couple of hours ago."

"Yes sir," the driver said, and the hovering limousine changed directions.

_And now,_ the tiny, innocent, harmless girl thought to herself, _the great moment begins again. The path to the last dream is begun anew. The path to the last fantasy. My Final Fantasy . . . ._

* * *

* * *

More questions posed than answered, eh? What will happen to Squall now that he's arrested? What evil plots do Illarra, Crell, and their ilk have in store? What will happen to Ellone? And what ov Irvine, Selphie, and Victor, and the mystery girl, Serra? The plot thickens . . . .

Next chapter, more on Zell and Laguna's adventures, as well as Irvine and Selphie! Plus, more of the treachery of Esthar's Director of Intelligence, and the (hopefully) return of the mysterious Alucard!

**Peptuck's Shout-Outs! TAKE OFF EVERY ZIG!**

**Solid Shark:** It does, doesn't it? I don't know where I got the description from, honestly. XD I came up with some ofit on my own, though some of it is from another, unrelated story I've read.

**Spikestrife:** Oh my, the suspense! What will Squall do, indeed?

**Kimahrigirl:** Yes. Yes, it sucks to be Squall. Really, it sucks to be any of the FFVIII crew, soon. And again, never fear for Seifer. He'll appear in the next few chapters, hopefully.

**Karaoke Risa:** Rinoa may actually play a bigger role than you'd expect here . . . .

**Chris Ganale:** You will grow to hate the villians even more. Illarra has more in store for Squall, not to mention what Crell has planned, and a few other villians who'll pop up, too!

I did get your email, by the way. I still need to reply, my mind is whirling over here, too.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen: **Well, it was close. :P Squall almost capped him! Squall got aorund it much like Jack did, being discovered by the security.

The spy is certainly not Quistis. I'm not that crazy as to make her the traitor. The traitor is not any of the main characters of FFVIII, though it is a minor one. Who, I am not saying.

Rinoa may actually read some more on who and what Alucard is later on. Not all will be revealed right awayabout our mystery wild card, trust me.

**Katy:** Well, here's your update! Hope you liked it:D

**Prodigy:** Yes, I did get the name from somewhere else. A story someone else wrote, which I shamelessly ripped off. I don't know where he got it from, though.

**Rusty Knights Productions:** The 24-style becomes much mor eintense in the next few chapters. It won't stay 24-ish forever, but will branch off into other styles, but for the first ten to fifteen chapters, it will be very much based off 24.

**Onirazz: **If you hate her, great. I'm doing my job. Seifer is . . . around. He will appear soon enough.

**E:** Well, that's a compliment! I hope this both fulfilled your addiciton and made you go crazier for more of the story.

The traitor . . . NORG may actually have some involvement . . . .

That enough maddening tidbits released for one chapter? Yay! Anyway, off to sleep. I'm tired, and I have mys ecret projects and evil world domination plans to work on.

Until next chapter!


	7. VI: Ensnared

_**Chapter 6: Ensnared**_

Things had gone from bad to worse in the few minutes that it had taken them to ditch the enemy Corsair aircraft. Zell had led the way into the woods for the rest of his group, pushing deeper into the thick tropical forest. He made certain to avoid any clearings; that would just reveal them and draw fire, especially if the enemy was using thermal sensors.

The problem was that the Corsairs were very dogged in their pursuit, and the direction they were moving in was causing them more trouble than good, as steep cliffs began to rise up around them.

"We're moving into the mountainous area," Lex guessed, and Zell nodded. He slowed down, as did the others, and looked around. It was hard to see in the thick, verdant forest, and the thin mists surrounding the trees made it even harder to see, but cliff walls were visible in the distance to their left and right. The way back was clear, and the way forward was as well, but that only gave the group a few options.

"Zell, wait," Laguna said as the brawler was considering their options. Laguna looked back behind them, brow furrowed in concentration. Zell's face screwed up in confusion, but then he heard a distant whine, steadily growing louder.

"What is that?" Raijin asked, hearing the noise as well.

"Scout bikes," Laguna responded, shaking his head. "They've dispatched scouts to find us on the ground."

"No way we can outrun them," Argus muttered. He flicked the safety off on his rifle. "Should we lay out the welcome mat, guys?"

"Yeah," Zell replied with a nod.

"AMBUSH," Fujin added. She turned, looking across the area they were in, and quickly gestured to a couple of fallen logs. "SNIPERS, THERE."

"Gotcha," Zell added with a nod. "Okay, here's how we're doing this . . . ."

Ten minutes later, a five man unit of Estharian soldiers whizzed through the forest, atop long, armored, camo-green hovering devices that looked like a mix between a flying motorcycle and a sled, with twin plasma cannons mounted on the front and faintly glowing anti-gravity devices on a pair of "wings" flaring out under the vehicles. The unit, referred to by the Estharian military as a "lance", deftly moved among the trees, despite the limitations the terrain imposed on them. They ranged out wide, keeping their eyes open, but stayed in the same general area, in a roughly oval formation, with two at the front, two further back and out to the sides, and the fifth in back as a rearguard.

They slowed as they entered a slightly wider open area, keeping their eyes on their surroundings. They knew who they were looking for, and knew that they were still running. Eventually, they would catch up with the survivors, though their mission was not to engage, just to locate and track.

They suspected the possibility of an ambush, but did not give it any real concern, which was their undoing as the first pair floated past a series of fallen wooden logs. To their left, something moved, and before the men in the second pair could shout a warning, a huge figure rose up, and lifted one of the fallen logs with his bare hands, hurling it with a furious roar. The leftmost scout bike in the second pair was crushed under the log as it struck his vehicle. Raijin roared again, this time in victory.

There was a flash of movement from the tree closest to the lead bike on the left side, and the pilot got a chance to swerve aside an instant before Lex's blade slashed out, the SeeD right next to his vehicle. The driver survived, but his left arm was severed, and he flew out of control to smash hard into a tree, crushing the front end of his bike and spilling the mortally wounded man across the bark. The bike exploded a moment later, taking its rider with it.

The other lead man suddenly found the right side of his bike dipping in that direction, and then a fist capped by metal knuckles crush his skull, hurling him from his bike as Zell settled in behind the controls.

A gray-feathered arrow stabbed into the chest of the remaining order of the second pair, and then the explosive tip detonated. The bike spun out of control and smashed into a tree as Fujin strung a second arrow into her bow. The wrecked vehicle settled to the ground a moment later, as did the remains of the driver, torn in half by the detonation.

The last pilot managed to spin his bike around in the face of the immediate and deadly ambush, but that just present Laguna and Argus with better targets. They perforated his bike with a salvo of bullets that tore the man apart, but also shattered and rent the electronics, causing the bike to explode in a brilliant blue-white flash of fire.

Zell spun the bike he had stole around awkwardly, pumping a fist in triumph. The enemy hadn't even gotten a chance to shoot back.

"Score one for the good guys!" Raijin crowed as Zell steered the bike into the middle of the battlefield. A quick check showed that none of the enemy soldiers had survived, and only Zell's vehicle was in any condition to be piloted. They quickly looted what gear they could use off the corpses, mostly just food and some medical gear, as well as flares and a radio from one man's helmet.

"These fires are like flares," Laguna commented, looking at the burning bikes all around them. "Those Corsairs are going to come running in minutes."

"You sound like that's a bad thing," Zell responded with a clever grin as he listened to the radio.

"What do you mean?" Laguna asked.

"Simple," Lex cut in, shaking his head. "Zell's got an idea."

"You bet," the brawler replied with a thumbs-up.

* * *

"Okay, okay, we are _lost."_ Irvine admitted as they rushed along through the forest. "We lost Serra, we lost where this path was going . . . Hell, we even lost _them."_

The other slowed down, panting, and Selphie had to nod tiredly. The screams had abated a few minutes ago, leaving the SeeDs in complete silence. The forest was quiet and peaceful again, though none of them were precisely certain how long that would last. The mystery men were nowhere to be seen, at least, and they had a brief reprieve, during which Victor moved to cast another spell over his wound.

The Trabian SeeD gestured at his wound, and called up healing magic, but nothing happened.

"The hell?" he muttered, shocked. The others looked to him, and saw his gesture at his wound again, and this time healing magic did emerge from his fingertips, but weaker than he expected.

"What is it?" Irvine asked, and Victor looked up, honestly perplexed.

"Something is suppressing my magic," he said, shaking his head. Selphie blinked in confusion.

"An anti-magic field?" Irvine mused, and Selphie quickly shook her head.

"No, if it was, my Guardian Forces would have been suppressed too," she replied. On impulse, she pun, and whacked one of the trees with her nunchaku. She watched with satisfaction as the bark cracked under the impact. "I still have my strength."

"Use magic," Victor suggested, and Selphie did so, channeling up a fiery bolt and directing it at the same tree. To her surprise, the bolt was little more than a spark of flame, not even a candle's light, and instantly faded. Selphie concentrated, and a moment later, the bolt did shoot forth, striking a snowy embankment and reducing it to mist.

"Weird," she muttered. "It should have been a lot bigger. I used a strong fire spell, and enhanced the magical yield too . . . ."

"Okay, this is enough weird shit for one day," Irvine proclaimed, shaking his head. "First the crazy guys in white, then Serra, and now this? Someone please explain to me what's going on here?"

As if in response, another inarticulate scream sounded nearby, and the trio reluctantly took off down the path again, as another axe flew past.

"This never ends," Selphie complained. They hurried through the woods, cutting through a small break between two clusters of trees, and found themselves running along a shallow ridge. A sword-wielding madman leapt into their path, but Irvine blew out his kneecaps with a pair of quick gunshots, and Selphie clobbered him off the ledge. As she did so, she spotted something below them, shrouded in the woods below, but visible among the trees.

"Down there!" she quickly shouted, pointing, and the others looked below, to see what appeared to be an old, ruined fortress, built in a long-past, bygone era. Irvine blinked.

"Remember what we said when we were coming here?" he asked her as they neared the end of the ridgeline and, without hesitation, turned toward the ruins.

"What?" Selphie asked. "That thing about no old castles?"

"Yeah," Irvine muttered, and she shrugged while running.

"Hey, at least there's no cackling old witch."

* * *

The room within Garden's basement level was referred to as Interrogation One, and was intended as both a holding room within Garden, and as a place to interrogate individuals detained by SeeD forces. It consisted of a mid-sized room with a single chair, table, a lone overhead light, a camera, and a one-way plexiglass window, behind which the observers stood or sat, obviously observing the process.

Unlike other, similar interrogation facilities in other nations, such as Galbadia or Dollet, Garden's interrogation procedures were different. While those nations were not hesitant to utilize more . . . _pressing_ . . . methods of interrogation when speed was required, Garden, due to Cid's personal beliefs, used only psychological pressures, not physical duress.

That was little comfort to Squall as he sat behind the table, matching eyes with Xu, who stood across from him, glaring at the Commander. She had been staring at him for several minutes, her face steadily shifting between anger, disbelief, and now confusion.

"I don't understand," she finally asked after a few more silent moments. "Of all the people . . . ."

Squall didn't immediately answer her, but finally looked away, closing his eyes.

"Why would you turn on Garden?" she asked him. "Of all the people . . . You've been with Garden for so long. You're part of Garden. Hell, you're the one who defeated Galbadia and Ultimecia! What the hell is going on here?"

"I wish I could say," Squall answered after a moment.

"What do you mean?" Xu asked. "You have any idea what it was you've done? You betrayed Garden! You were going to murder the Headmaster!"

"You don't think I know that!" Squall snapped angrily, causing Xu to pause. "You think I had a choice? You have no idea what's going to happen now, do you?"

"_Easy, Squall,"_ Illarra's voice cut in, stopping Squall's outburst cold. _"Simmons hasn't been unleashed yet, and I can tell him to take his time if you do start talking."_

Squall settled down after a second, his jaw clenched tightly, fists shaking in rage.

"What is it?" Xu asked, and Squall shook his head.

"I can't tell you," he replied. "If I do . . . Things will only get worse."

Xu sighed and shook her head.

"If you're going to be that way," she muttered, and turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Squall waited a few moments, before angrily pounding his fist aginast the top of the table.

"_Now that we're alone,"_ Illarra cooed, almost making it sound as if they were sharing an intimate moment, _"I've got a new job for you."_

"Escape and kill Cid," Squall muttered under his breath, and she chuckled.

"_Killing the Headmaster would be nice, but its really unnecessary now,"_ she replied. _"You've been made out to be Garden's enemy, and the bomb is still ticking. No, I have a bigger coup for you to pull off."_

Squall paused as he listened to her, looking out at the window. He considered the option of making a signal or something to the people on the other side, telling them what was happening, but decided against it. He couldn't be certain if Illarra did or did not have taps into the security cameras.

"_First is simple. Escape,"_ Illarra continued. _"Second is not so simple. There's a man waiting on the east side of the main plaza of FH's train station, inside one of the buildings. He's under a large red sign, and you need to be there within the next hour and a half, when the big speeches from President Caraway and Duke Haroldington are being given. He'll give you another package: a sniper rifle. You can guess what needs to be done with it."_

"Assassination," Squall hissed, closing his eyes.

"_Perhaps I can have Simmons pipe in an audio feed through this channel while he has his way with your sister?"_ Squall jerked slightly at that, clenching his fist tightly.

"_Glad to see you understand,"_ Illarra relied with a chuckle. "_Of course, there are people who matter just as much to you as Ellone. I wonder what you'd do if we were to bring Rinoa into this? We can easily expand the scope of this operation if need be."_

Squall didn't answer, too horrified by that proposition to say anything at first. Finally, after several moments, he did have a proper response.

"When I find you . . . ." he hissed.

"_I certainly hope you do,"_ she cut him off. _"I've been dying to meet you face to face. Maybe when this day is over we can have some private moments together, hm?"_

"Pray that we don't meet," Squall answered. "Not even Hyne will save you once I find you."

Illarra burst out laughing at that.

"_You don't know anything, do you? Escape, first. Then make your way to the structure under the large red sign. If you don't, you know what happens."_

_

* * *

_

The door into Cid Kramer's office flew open again, and the three occupants of the room spun toward the entrance. Quistis and Xu's hands dropped to their belts, grasping at their weapons, but they relaxed as they saw who was coming in.

"Where's Squall?" Rinoa demanded, the Sorceress quickly crossing the room, obviously distressed.

"In the detention center," Cid replied from behind his desk. He glanced over at his broken window, and then back at Rinoa. "Interrogation One."

"Why?" she quickly asked. "What happened?"

"He pulled a gun on the Headmaster," Quistis answered, obviously just as concerned as Rinoa was. "Xu was able to intervene just in time." She shook her head, obviously not understanding.

Rinoa didn't say anything immediately, her mind whirling with the news. It was difficult for her to fathom what Squall had just done, and it seemed to be the same way with the others.

"It not his fault," Cid stated after a moment, and the others looked to the Headmaster. He sat forward, brow furrowing in thought, apparently unaffected by his close brush with death less than fifteen minutes ago.

"Squall told me he had no choice," Cid continued. "From what I could tell, he was being forced to do this against his will by the same terrorists that attacked President Loire's train. He told me that something terrible would happen if he didn't do what he did."

"I got that impression too," Xu replied. "He said as much when I was talking with him."

"Why didn't he tell you?" Rinoa asked. "If he's acting against his will, he should have said why."

"The terrorists must be listening in," Cid responded, shaking his head again. "If they are, that means that they are probably observing him, and may have taps somewhere on his body. We can't risk trying to find or remove them . . . But if they are observing him, that means that they have some type of camera or watcher inside Garden. And that would mean they have access to the interior of Garden."

"The easiest way to gain access is through someone on the inside," Quistis commented, and she glanced at Xu, and then Rinoa.

"A traitor?" Rinoa whispered.

"We need a new plan," Cid said quickly, rubbing his stubbled chin. "We have to assume that the terrorists are planning to act now that the task they forced on Squall has failed. Quistis, take charge of our intelligence forces. Send alerts to the Dollet Marines and Galbadian forces on guard to heighten their alert level to maximum. Assume a terrorist attack is imminent. Maximum security for the President and the Duke."

"On it," Quistis said with a nod. Cid looked to Xu.

"Xu, take charge of Garden security. Find the traitor, find the observers or cameras. Locate any external taps into Garden's ethernet or mainframe. Put our personnel on heightened alert. I want _all_ SeeDs and cadets to go on full standing alert. All personnel are to check in every fifteen minutes. Reinforce security at all critical locations. Find out how they got to Squall and how they are keeping track of him. That might lead us directly back to their base of operations."

"Right," Xu responded.

"And Rinoa," Cid said, looking to her. She stood up a little straighter as he addressed her.

"Yes?" she asked.

"No tap can track telepathy," he said quietly. "Find out from Squall who or what the retaliatory target is. I'm sorry to have to ask you to use your powers, but we need them now more than ever." Cid quickly reached into his desk and pulled out an ID card. "Give this to the guards in Interrogation One. It will give you my authorization to have them leave and let you take care of things. Don't go inside the interrogation room, either. They may have tapped the cameras."

"Are we going to let him go?" Rinoa asked as she took the card from the Headmaster, and he shook his head.

"No, we can't," he replied. "We release Squall, and there's the possibility they will try to force him to perform another attack, either on me again, or on another target. There are plenty of them here today. We risk letting him go until the threat has been neutralized. We'll be counting on you to figure out what angle they're using to force him into this."

"I understand," Rinoa replied.

"Let's get to work," Cid said, standing, and the women nodded, rising. Cid's subordinates began to leave the room, but Quistis and Xu paused outside the entrance to the office to hastily salute a figure approaching. Xu held the door open for the man as he walked in.

His face was worn and craggy, and his blonde hair was a bit grayer, but the old-fashioned Dollet military uniform worn by Headmaster Martine Cayes of Galbadia Garden was brand new and immaculately clean. He nodded to the saluting SeeDs and stepped into the room.

"Martine," Cid said with a smile, moving around his desk and shaking the other Headmaster's hand.

"Cid," Martine responded brusquely, taking the offered hand. He glanced at the shattered window, and at the situation room beyond. "I heard about the attack, and I came right over. What happened?"

"Let me fill you in," Cid responded, gesturing to a seat across from his desk. "I apologize about the mess, but we are in a crisis situation here."

"I fully understand," Martine answered. "The moment I heard there was an assassination attempt, I put my entire Garden on alert. I hear that the assassin was apprehended, am I right?"

"Yes, he was," Cid answered, and shook his head. "You won't believe who it was, or why we think he did it . . . ."

* * *

"Okay, get ready," Laguna hissed, crouching lower amid the bushes and ferns. "Here they come."

A short distance away, Fujin and Argus mimicked Laguna, their eyes scanning the forest. Fujin slowly pulled a high-explosive arrow out of her pouch and fitted the projectile to her bow, while Argus slid the safety off on his rifle. They were ready.

Overhead, the oblong shapes of the trio of Corsair airships drifted overhead, each ship's trio of plasma cannons sweeping the woods below as they closed in. Laguna glanced to the foot of the cliff, where the intact scout bike lay, its engine gutted and blazing blue-white fires. The destruction from the battle had brought the enemy aircraft over like moths to a flame, and the traitorous Estharian soldiers were about to get burned.

Slowly, the three ships drifted closer, dropping beneath the top of the cliffs and descending, their sides opening. A few armored troops leaned out of the bays, peering over the battlefield. Several drop lines began to lower from the transports, and the troops started to rappel down. Two of them were drifting close to the cliff face, their attention mostly on the ground below. Perfect.

Laguna glanced to his two comrades and nodded. They raised their weapons, Fujin drew back her bow, and each of the trio immediately unleashed a hellish barrage at the enemy. Precise rifle fire from Argus and Laguna plucked enemy soldiers off their drop lines as they came down, and others began shouting in surprise and confusion. An arrow lanced up, driving into one of the guns beneath a Corsair, and detonated, blasting the cannon off.

The Corsair guns pivoted instantly, however, and the remaining weapons opened fire, white bolts of destruction lancing down at the woods below in general suppressive fire, intended to force the attackers into cover and possibly score a kill. Foliage exploded and was set ablaze, and the three attackers on the ground split up, dashing away from their firing positions. They had done their job: the Corsairs and their troops were looking below. They wouldn't see the attack coming from beside them.

"All right!" Zell Dincht roared, and he looked to Lex and Raijin, who were a little further down on the cliff face, clutching the wall with their fingers tightly. They had no harnesses or other climbing gear, relying only on their own raw physical strength and training to get up the cliff face. The plan had been crazy, but that was the point; the enemy never would have expected this attack from this direction. They were so intent on the flames below that they hadn't even bothered to check the cliff face for a threat. Stupid of them, and perfect for the good guys.

"_Banzai!" _Zell roared, and he released the cliff, falling back, before spinning in midair, coiling his legs beneath him, and kicking off with all his strength, directly at the open bay of one of the Corsairs. Raijin and Lex did the same, kicking off the cliff face, and leaping toward the other Corsair nearing the wall.

Two soldiers were standing in the open doors, looking down, and didn't see Zell as he collided into them, hurling them, and a half-dozen others, against the inner wall of the Corsair. Zell extracted himself from the pile of human bodies with a roar, striking out with an arm even as he was standing up. One of the standing soldiers was hurled back hard enough to crush the bones in his body, and Zell wasted no time tearing into the half-dozen standing men with raw fury. His fists pulverized bone, his feet shattered skulls, and the enemy was driven back from him like leaves in a windstorm. In the tight quarters, none could get a weapon up and around to strike at Zell, a disadvantage the brawler did not suffer from.

Raijin mimicked Zell in action, bowling over a trio of soldiers standing at the entrance to his target vehicle, crushing and tossing them and many more around the interior of the transport. Even as he was rising, throwing his arms out wide and hurling his enemies back, Lex dropping into the troop bay, his katana flashing out and slicing apart two of the enemy.

Below, plasma fire continued chasing the distracting trio. They paused only to look up, level their weapons, and fire again, to keep the enemy's attention on them. Fujin destroyed another gun turret with her arrows, lessening the barrage launched at them, while Argus and Laguna finished off those soldiers still on the drop lines. With the boarding team keeping the enemy in two of the Corsairs occupied, they could focus on those soldiers pouring out of the third one.

Unfortunately, the muzzle flashes from their rifles made the pair prime targets, and the Corsair's gunner was getting better at tracking them. Argus took cover among a small copse of trees, while Laguna opted to simply run, plasma exploding around him as it chased the President.

A bolt whizzed past his head, burning off part of Laguna's ponytail, and he yelped in surprise. An instant later Laguna's foot found a tangled tree root, and he fell without warning, tumbling down a small slope and crashing hard into a tree. He lay there, dazed, for a moment, and then found Fujin standing over him.

"RUN!" she hissed. "UP! AWAY!" She grabbed his arm and started to lift Laguna up, when the enemy fire slashed even closer, igniting the woods around them. Fujin looked up, and realized that the plasma barrage was going to hit them in moments, and even she, with her junctions, couldn't survive that much destructive power.

In a matter of moments, Zell's overwhelming physical power and raw fury, as well as his remarkable skill at close quarters combat, had pulverized the enemy resistance inside the Corsair. He tore apart a dozen men and sent the rest scrambling, tumbling, and flying out the open door with a blurringly fast barrage of punches, kicks, throws, and head-butts. Holding nothing back, Zell had killed practically the entire force inside the aircraft, and the remainder tumbled to their deaths below. Two remained alive, standing in front of the entrance to the cockpit, and both leveled plasma rifles at him.

Zell ducked and dove low as plasma slashed past his body, and tackled both enemy soldiers at the waist. They crashed to the floor along with him, and he rose, one foot rising in an axe kick that crushed his target's throat, and then spun into a slamming punch that shattered the other man's neck. Zell spun toward the door to the cockpit, and rushed forward, kicking it open.

The pilot and gunner flinched as the door flew inward, and the gunner spun, leveling a pistol at Zell. Zell's response was to reach out with a flashing arm, seize the man's wrist, and snap it with a flick of his fingers. The man howled in pain, and Zell grabbed him by his shoulders, hauling him up out of his seat, and smashing the man down onto the pilot. Zell lifted the impromptu human club up again and slammed him down on top of the pilot, before spinning and hurling the man out the door of the Corsair and into the troop bay. The gunner flew all the way to the far end of the vehicle, where he crashed against the wall with a wet crunch.

The pilot was still dazed by the unexpected attack when Zell wrapped an arm around the man's neck and twisted, shattering it. He quickly pulled the dead man out of the seat and tossed him out into the troop bay, before plopping down in the chair himself and seizing control of the airship.

Raijin and Lex were just as effective as Zell. The huge warrior literally managed to catch over half of the enemy on one side of the Corsair, and proceeded to systematically crush them with his bo staff, raw physical power, and strength-enhancing junctions and powered armor attachments. Lex, on the other hand, quickly sliced as fast as he could, not bothering to sheathe his katana for proper iaijutsu strikes, instead simply cutting with both hands. His blade tore through armor at lightning-fast speeds, quickly tearing apart any enemy that stood before him. In close quarters, the SeeD and his bodyguard comrade were nearly unmatched.

Lex managed to clear a path to the door of the cockpit, and proceeded to kick it open. His junctions allowed him to knock the door inward, but rather than rush inside, he grabbed a small, shiny white orb off one fallen foe's belt, and primed the grenade. He tossed it into the room, and spun, slapping Raijin on the shoulder. The big man nodded and fell back, away from the few surviving opponents, and both intruders leapt out the open doors, using the drop lines to descend.

Behind them, the cockpit exploded outward in a flash of plasma, and the Corsair immediately dropped, out of control, toward the ground.

The Corsair's fire tracked closer, death only an instant away as Fujin yanked Laguna to his feet and began to drag him out of the line of fire. She looke dup at the enemy ship, watched the bolts homing in-

and suddenly turn away, the cannons leveling at a new target. A stream of automatic gunfire erupted from a copse of trees, and Fujin watched in horror as she saw Argus roaring a challenge, standing in the open and firing up at the Corsair overhead. His bullets bounced off its armor, and did not strike any of its troops down, but the gunner must have been angered by his sudden, daring act. All three cannons on that ship swiveled to face Argus, and the SeeD suddenly broke off, diving for cover.

The plasma exploded around where Argus stood, annihilating the trees and igniting the ground around him in a hellish firestorm of destruction. The cannons blazed away at where he stood, pounding the ground until nothing remained but a blackened slab of glass and ashen wood.

As if in response, one of the boarded Corsairs swung around, its two intact cannons rising up at the murderous aircraft. The ship opened up inexplicably, plasma slashing through the open troop bay and immolating the soldiers inside, before burning out the other end of the ship. The fires tracked toward the cockpit, washing over it, and even as the assaulted ship began to brings its guns to bear, the energy cannons tore through the cockpit and vaporized the crew. The ravaged Corsair hung in the air for a second, and then drifted out of control, diving down and crashing against the cliff face before exploding in a blue-white fireball.

Silence filled the woods around the battlefield, cut off only by the humming of the captured Corsair's engines as it drifted down lower, toward the treetops. Moments later, Raijin and Lex trudged through the forest, sweating and covered in enemy blood, but otherwise none the worse for wear. At Fujin's feet, Laguna rose, shaking his head.

"Hey," Raijin asked after a moment, looking around. "Where's Argus?"

"Gone," Fujin answered quietly, nodding toward the blackened glass patch.

"Dammit!" Raijin responded, and smashed his staff against a small, younger tree, breaking it in half. "Fuckin' bastards!"

"They killed Argus?" Laguna muttered, recovering from his daze. The Corsair Zell had seized settled down into a small clearing, and the brawler hopped out, running toward them. The brawler's expression was filled with elation, but was also marred by rage. His fists were clenched tightly, clearly angered by what had just happened.

"I saw him," Zell said, shaking his head, his voice laced with the fury in his eyes. "He distracted to Corsair to save your lives . . . ."

_Another dead hero. Just like Reynolds and his crew. Just like the guys on the train. Just like the SeeDs and Dollet soldiers in Centra._

"Let's get the hell out of here," Zell snarled. "Let's find out where these bastards are based and bring back the whole damn army and flatten the place."

"Ellone," Laguna said quickly, shaking his head. "We have to find Ellone first. They kidnapped her for a reason, and since I'm supposed to be dead, they have to have taken here for some other purpose."

"Blackmail," Lex added. "I know what they'd do with her. She's the Commander's sister. If anything, they'd use her to get to him."

"Okay," Zell said, with a nod. He gestured back toward the aircraft "Priority shift. There's a terrain map on that ship's computers, and I think it has a map of where these guys are based. We go there, we kill all the bastards we find, find Ellone, and get the hell out."

_And this time, hope nobody becomes another hero._

"I like that plan," Raijin answered grimly, nodding. "Let's roll, ya know?"

* * *

"Copy that, Garden Control, I am on station," SeeD Captain Mike Devine said, the Ragnarok he was piloting swooping over the trackless ocean. "I have confirmed debris on the ocean surface, Estharian polymers and design floating. Sensors are confirming that there is exhaust from Estharian Pyromancer missiles still in the air as well. Looks like one of the airships fired on the other, ma'am. Over."

"_Just what we're suspecting,"_ Quistis replied. "_Treachery again. Its becoming too common out here today."_

"Copy that," Mike responded, bringing his ship around. In the distance, he could see the burning remains of the ruined train. He shook his head again. Zell was a good man, as were Argus and Lex. He wanted to pay back the enemy who did this personally.

The radar beeped, and he glance at the holographic readouts. Mike tensed for a moment, and then relaxed, smiling when he saw what was approaching from the Estharian mainland. A dozen fast-moving contacts, of a familiar shape and formation.

"_Ragnarok airship, this is Esthar Air Force Commander Antil, Raptor Squadron,"_ cut in a friendly voice over the radio. _"Ministers Seagill and Zaback sent us out here personally to help with the search efforts. Hope you don't mind if we fly with you, over."_

"This is Ragnarok," Mike responded. "Glad to see you, boys. Good to know there's some people I can trust flying out here with me. Over."

"_Mike, that you?"_ asked Antil, and Mike sent an affirmative reply. _"Been a bit since we flew together. What have you found, over?"_

"It was definitely a Ragnarok-class airship that did this," Mike responded. "Pyromancer exhaust, and I found debris from one of the escorts in the water. Keep your eyes open, we may have a hostile contact a any time, over."

"_Copy that,"_ Antil responded. _"Raptor Three, set your communications frequencies. Start scanning for any distress beacons. Ragnarok, we heard you picked up a beacon, but it was cut off. Where was the origin? Over."_

"Pretty close to here, Raptor Lead," Mike answered. "This general vicinity. Wouldn't have found the site without it, either. Over."

"_Right,"_ Antil answered. _"Okay, that leaves us at . . . Wait, what's that? Hold on, Ragnarok . . . Understood. Ragnarok, Raptor Three has picked up Estharian-band radio transmissions coming from an island approximately twenty-two miles north of the train destruction site. That island is not currently being used by the Estharian military, but we're picking up an unusual degree of comms traffic, some of it distress signals. There are reports of attacks occurring there. Interesting. Think we should have a look?"_

"Sure thing, Raptor Lead," Mike responded, and brought his ship around as the nimble Estharian fighters looped around his own ship, taking flanking positions. "Let's have a look-see, eh?"

* * *

-

* * *

This chapter was a bit tough, but somehow I got it out a day early. Yay!

It was largely a transitionary chapter, setting things up for the next one. I know, I lied, there is no Alucard this chapter, but trust me, he will be showing up again, very, very soon. The storyline really picks up soon, as well. I assure you that, from about htis point on, the action will really start to get good. Real good. Zell and laguna will find themselves hip-deep in battle, and Irivne and Selphie, well, things will get a lot worse for them. And Squall . . . no, his day will still be bad for a while longer.

Some obvious references in this chapter. The Corsairs, for example are sort of like fatter versions of Halo's Phantom dropships, and the scout bikes are a lot like Ghosts.

Okay, that's enough for my commentary. So, without further ado . . . .

**Peptuck's Shout-Outs of SHININING JUSTICE!**

**Daniel Wesley Rydell**: Well, good. I'm glad you don't. I happen to like my villians though, even if they will meet some fairly violent ends.

**Karaoke Risa: **Rinoa is a key to the whole plan, yes. Crell said as much in the prologue, remember? And surpisingly enough, Squall won't be doing much behind bars . . . especially considering he won't be spending much time in them in the first place. its when he gets out that things start getting interesting. Remember a similar scene in Gunblade, involving Seifer? Hee.

**Chris Ganale:** Yeah, the situation is pretty bad. it will get worse, if that is possible. Trust me.

**Prodigy:** Illarra . . . she's fun to write. She will meet a bad end . . . eventually. Hopefully. Possibly. If you ask really nicely.

**Xephon:** Yes. Those evil, evil villainous bastards. Wait until you meet the next batch. Yes, the bunch we've seen thus far isn't all of them. Wait until you learn who the little girl is . . . .

**LittleGenius90:** Logic? Logic? Since when does logic play an important role:P Quistis will, however, be taking an important role once the leash on Squall is dropped . . . if it ever is. And laguna was back this chapter, I hope you enjoyed their adventures, even if Argus died. Meh, he was just a red-shirt SeeD anyway.

**Solid Shark:** A bad day? Oh, trust me, it smoe than just a day, I assure you. Things will be bad for a while. :P

**Katy:** The plot thickens. You may or may not expect what happens in the next few chapters. Hee!

**OniRazz:** Don't fall off your chair. The suspense is going to heat up soon!

**JadeAlmasy: **Hey, take your time. I have no problem with waiting for people to review me.

**E:** The traitor won't be revealed for a little bit, trust me.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** I like that kind of reaction! And when Squall meets Illarra . . . sparks are going to fly, I assure you. Their story is a lot bigger than you think . . . the title of the story does refer to the reason behind their emnity. What that reason is, I say nothing!

As for Serra, I say nothing! Except you are right on at least one thing. What, I won't say.

As for Laguna, expect some serious heroics from him soon. And Malachi, remember him? Wait until you see him in action!

And the confrontation between Squall and Illarra . . . heh. Well, its going to get interesting.

**Kimahrigirl:** Soon, hopefully! We may see Seifer soon! And it will be awesome, I assure you!

**Leonhartilly:** Well, what do you know, oyu predicted my plot element! Darn you!

That everyone? Good. Now, back to work.

Until next chapter . . . . (ooooh, ending it with dramatic ellipses! How cliffhangery!)


	8. VII: Contained

_**Chapter 7: Contained**_

Simmons slowly traced his finger along Ellone's neck, running it through her hair. She shivered under his touch, which made him chuckle as he casually twirled his pistol in his other hand. The sadistic mercenary walked around in front of her and crouched down, looking his hostage in the eye. She pointedly looked away, not meeting his gaze.

"'Llarra tells me that you brother's not fulfilling his end of the deal," Simmons explained. He grabbed Ellone by her chin and turned her around to face him. "That's bad for you. He stays like this, and you may have a problem." He paused, and his eyes traced down her body, making Ellone shiver again.

"Maybe I should just get started now," he said suggestively. "Your brother can be stubborn at times, though I can't believe he'd be so callous as to leave you to my mercies." The mercenary chuckled. "Who knows? You might just like it."

Ellone glared at him, and suddenly spat in his face. Simmons recoiled, wiping his mouth off, where the spittle had landed. Snarling, he reached back with a hand and viciously slugged his hostage across the face.

"Bitch," he growled as Ellone fell back with a cry of pain. He bent down over her, pushing her back on the floor. "To hell with this. Illarra's going to have me do this anyway, regardless of whether your brother comes through or not. So, let's just get things going, huh?" Simmons grabbed the front of Ellone's robes.

Then he was pulled away as an arm wrapped around his throat and lifted the mercenary up. With casual ease, Major Malachi hurled the mercenary across the room, where he crashed into a table, spilling documents and an empty bottle over him.

"I warned you," Malachi muttered darkly, his knife out in his hands. "I told you not to try anything funny."

Simmons spat on the floor and stood up, leveling his pistol at the Major. Malachi chuckled, and spun his knife around his index finger.

"You really want to try that?" he replied. "The Director would get real mad if he found out." Simmons hesitated, and finally lowered his weapon. Malachi nodded, and returned his knife to its sheathe.

"Don't try that again," he said, shaking his head. "Until you get an explicit order, you keep it in your pants, or I'll make sure it never gets back inside your pants again, understood?" Simmons sneered but nodded.

"What the hell are you here for, anyway?" the mercenary asked.

"Aside from making sure you don't mistreat our guest," Malachi answered, and then nodded toward the comms equipment. At his gesture, several technicians and soldiers moved into the room, and began sitting down at the communications gear. "All our comms systems are being tied up. The Director's planning something big in the next few days, maybe as soon as tomorrow. I'm shifting island communications to this room. Something happened on the west side, involving our Corsairs. I need to get back in contact with them."

"Don't tell me your elite commandos can't deal with a ragged bunch of battered survivors," Simmons sneered, and Malachi shrugged.

"One of our Corsairs confirmed something interesting," Malachi continued. "President Loire was alive during the battle. I need confirmation that he's dead. We got cut off during the battle, likely due to the Director's interference."

"Well, don't let me interrupt you," Simmons replied, walking across the room and leaning against a wall.

"Move her out of the way," Malachi ordered, and a pair of soldiers dragged Ellone away from the center of the floor. "Reestablish contact. Do we still have their transponders?"

"Two transponders are not responding," one of the techs answered. "However, we do have Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine active, and en route back to the base."

Open a channel," Malachi ordered. "Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine, report in. Did you kill the target?"

There was a long pause, in which only silence responded over the radio.

"Zulu-Two-Nine-Nine, respond," Malachi snarled.

There was no answer again.

"Dammit, Lieutenant Niels, are you there?" Malachi demanded. "Niels, respond."

"_Attention!"_ a voice cut in over the radio, and Malachi straightened. That wasn't the voice he wanted to hear, and it wasn't in the tone he was wanting, either.

"_Attention, Niels is dead, fuck-head!"_ shouted the man on the other end. _"So's his pal! And you assholes are next!"_

"Who is this?" Malachi demanded, and he nodded toward a technician, who immediately started sending alert orders.

"_This is your friendly neighborhood Corsair aerial transport hijacker and SeeD extraordinaire, Zell Dincht,"_ The voice responded. _"Currently en route to shove this airship right up your collective asses!"_

"SeeD Dincht, you are about to attack a fully armed Estharian military base with a single Corsair aerial transport," Malachi responded. "You do understand this is complete suicide, do you not?"

"_Suicide?"_ Zell replied. _"_Wow_, I haven't done one of those kinds of missions in about a month now. Considering how many times I've been shot at in the last couple of hours, I'm feeling kind of lucky. Hey, Laguna, you feel lucky?"_

"_Yes, I do," _answered the voice of Laguna Loire, President of Esthar. _"Especially when dealing with Estharian traitors. Question is, mystery people over there in the base I know nothing about and actively plotting to assassinate me, is this: Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you?"_

"Sir, they're about to fly right into the middle of our air defense net," reported another technician.

"Blow 'em out of the sky as soon as they do," Malachi replied. "Mister President, your wit and candor are commendable in the face of certain death. I can accept your surrender right now, if you wish, but in about ten seconds, at your present course, you will fly into our defense net and be obliterated. Your ship is too close, and my aircraft can shoot you down even if you try to flee right now. You have no other options."

"_Oh, I think we do,"_ replied Dincht over the line. _"Only thing is, we're trying to decide whether to stake you guys on rusty bars, or just drag your heads back with us to Garden to mount over the wet bar. I'm not sure what you look like, but we have room right beside the head of Sorceress Adel."_

"You'll regret mentioning Adel," Malachi responded, his voice suddenly very dangerous.

"Sir, they are in range now," the tech stated.

"Wipe them off the sky, Sergeant," Malachi ordered. "And prepare a transmission to the Presidential Palace to inform them that we've confirmed Loire's death."

"Aye, sir."

"Looks like Daddy tried to rescue you," Simmons muttered, walking over to Ellone. "Too bad. He was an idiot anyway. Glad to see that fool go." He reached down and ran a hand through her hair again, and suddenly jerked as his sleeve was pinned against he wall by a quivering knife.

Malachi wasn't even looking at Simmons, but his arm was returning to his side. He spared one more warning glance at Simmons as the mercenary pulled the knife off the wall and tossed it back.

"Next time, it's your jewels," Malachi warned with a finality that left no room for debate.

* * *

"Thar she blows," Zell commented as what looked like hundreds of red streaks and flashing bolts of energy shattered their appropriated Corsair transport high above them. 

"And in we go," Laguna added, moving through the hole Lex had sliced in the nearly invisible transparisteel fence that ringed the base complex . Their entrance had come from the south side of the island, through a narrow gully that seemed relatively unguarded. Of course, it had actually been very well-protected by the invisible, camouflaged fence and an array of holocameras, but they had gotten around that with a clever distraction. Zell had rigged up the autopilot on the Corsair, and using one of the dead soldier's captured radios, had provoked enemy fire. That had captured everyone's attention, and no one had noticed the intrusion of the quintet of impromptu commandos through the southern wall.

A couple of minutes after the infiltration, the quintet stood on a ridgeline inside the perimeter of the base, looking down over the facility with a stolen pair of binoculars. It was a good thing the enemy had been well-equipped. From what they could see, the facility was on the north side of the island, and outwardly appeared to be a small collection of prefabricated structures, painted in camouflaged colors and covered with netting festooned with false leaves and branches, hiding them well among the foliage.

However, careful examination revealed there were more than the prefabricated buildings. On the north side of the facility were a series of clearings, with what looked like small trees in the center of them. A close look showed slight amounts of metal gleaming among the false trees; aircraft hidden on secret landing pads, dozens of them. Within the trees, pointed shapes and boxy structures were hidden beneath layers of netting; anti aircraft missile launchers and defense emplacements. A mountainous wall rose to the west, and while there appeared to be an old rockslide of boulders piled up along the slope, one could make out tiny, telltale metal slivers of light among the stones; it looked like the boulders were hiding the entrance to an underground tunnel. That meant that the majority of the facility was underground.

"How we gonna get in there?" Raijin asked, and Zell shook his head, scanning the compound.

"No idea where they're keeping Ellone," he replied. "All we have to do is grab her and pull out. SeeD support should be coming soon, with the distress signal we sent before we sent the Corsair in."

"My bet would be underground," Lex suggested. "Safe and secure, and I think that's where the command center would be."

"That thing that looks like a bunker, about two hundred feet to south of the boulder tumble," Laguna said quickly, and pointed at it. Zell nodded as he saw it. From this angle, he could see a heavy doorway set into one of the mountain slopes, and what looked like a quartet of camouflaged Estharian soldiers standing in front of it.

"That's our ticket in," Zell said, and the others nodded.

* * *

Squall looked around the room. He had helped come up with the design for the Interrogation area of the Brig sector, so he knew how well this place was designed. As long as one didn't have anything metallic in their possession, it was impossible to escape. The camera covered the entire room, and the armored window could survive a tremendous beating, unless someone used a sharp metallic instrument to cut a circle in it and break it down. By that time a legion of SeeDs would be waiting in the room outside. 

Squall considered his options. He didn't have any junctions. He could use magic, but a localized anti-magic field was kept operation inside the room, sealing that option. He couldn't fight fully armed SeeDs without magic, junctions, or the ability to Draw. Well, he _could_, but his chances were slim; he remembered distinctly what happened when he had tried to resist Seifer in the D District Prison.

That meant . . . What? His only real option lay in getting out of Interrogation One, to a place without the anti-magic field, and Draw a GF. Then he could stand a chance of escaping. But getting out would be the hard part.

Squall shook his head, and lowered it to his palms. He fervently hoped that Ellone was safe. Squall closed his eyes, and then opened them quickly, looking straight down at his necklace. In their haste to lock him away, none of the Garden Security officers had removed his necklace. Stupid of them; the Griever pendant's lower end had a sharpened edge. He could use it to escape.

But time. He needed less than thirty seconds, uninterrupted, to get outside through the window. In that time a dozen or more SeeDs would fall all over him and beat him senseless. Still, if he could neutralize one, even for a moment, and seize their weapon, he might have a chance.

Squall nodded, the idea solidifying in his mind. He needed a chance, a moment when no one was watching him, and he could pull it off. Thirty seconds, getting outside the anti-magic field, and a junctioned SeeD, and Squall Leonhart would be able to escape.

_Squall?_

He jerked, straightening, and looked around, before settling his gaze on the window. He knew the voice, all to well, and her words were instantly comforting. They had rarely communicated like this before; her voice resounded in his mind, as if her words were simply jumping past his ears and straight into his consciousness.

_Rinoa?_ he thought back, and felt a warm sense of comfort wash over him. He latched onto that, knowing she would be able to feel it back through the telepathic link. On the tail end of that feeling was another thought.

_You're in the outer room, right?_

_Yeah,_ she responded. _Still can't do this without line of sight, though. Cid knows that you're being tapped, and they can hear you, but I don't think that they can sense a telepathic link between a Sorceress and her Knight._

_Good for us. I forgot we could do this. If I had remembered, we might have stopped this before . . . No, not likely, now that I think about it. What did Cid tell you?_

_Everything he knows,_ Rinoa answered. _Something terrible is going to happen if you don't do what they say. They're looking for the traitor now. Whoever set this up, they'll find them._ Rinoa's voice paused. _What are they doing? Who are they threatening?_

_Ellone._

Squall felt a ripple of shock run through his mind, and suppressed the urge to nod.

_They took her off the train when they attacked. If I don't do what they say . . . ._ Squall couldn't even think about it, and instead dredged up the memories of the initial phone conversation. Horror, followed by rage and disgust, flew through his mind as Rinoa ran through the conversation.

_Those . . . Bastards!_

_I had worse words for them,_ Squall answered. _So far, they made me try to kill Cid, and . . . Rinoa! Quick! You have to alert Xu! There's a bomb in the MD Level, at that anti-grav drives! You have to get rid of it!_

_Right,_ she responded, surprised and somewhat alarmed, but not panicking. _How long until it goes?_

_It's set to detonate during the initial speeches in . . . shit! Forty minutes!_

_Anything else?_ she asked him.

_Yeah. They want me to escape and head to the main plaza. There . . . They want me to pick up a sniper rifle and assassinate your father and Duke Haroldington._

Genuine shock and fear shot through her mind.

_Are you going to do it?_

_No._ Squall's response was firm, but he wasn't sure if he could hold himself to that or not. In all honesty, he had not taken into account that he was being ordered to assassinate Rinoa's own father. The image was horrifying to him, and his emotions carried over into Rinoa's mind.

_Squall,_ she said firmly in his mind. _We _will_ find who is doing this, and we _will_ stop them. You understand?_

_Yeah,_ Squall replied. _The woman who is behind it is named Illarra. She has an associate names Simmons, a mercenary, they're communicating with me via an earpiece I'm wearing. I don't know if you can trace the transmissions or not._

_We'll do what we can. Anything else?_

_Whoever the traitor is, they have access to all of Garden's interior. They hid the pistol I was going to use against Cid in the MD Level. Whoever Illarra is, she has a grudge against me. I don't know from where, but she does have one._

_I'll have Garden get to work on that part,_ Rinoa responded._ I'll need to get with Cid and let him know everything that's going on._

_Okay,_ Squall answered, and then paused. _Rinoa . . . The terrorists said that if they wanted to, they could bring you into this as well._

_They did?_ Squall could feel the apprehension rolling off her as he said that.

_Yeah. Please, watch your back. I don't want you mixed up in this too._

_I'll be careful, Squall,_ she responded. There was a brief hesitation on her end of the link. _Squall, I have to go now. I just want you to know . . . I love you, okay?_

_I know,_ Squall answered. _I love you too._

_

* * *

_

In less than a second, an arm snaked around a guard's neck, snapping it like a twig. The second man felt his backbone break as a huge warrior simply grabbed him and twisted his body, the sickening crunch resounding around the small bunker. A flash of a blade, and a third guard fell, the katana returning to its sheath before the man had finished falling. The fourth guard's hands shot up to his throat, where a chakram was buried, the blades stealing his voice as he collapsed to the dirt.

The four assassins moved in quickly, Zell and Raijin dragging the bodies into the thick forest cover around the bunker, while Fujin, Lex, and Laguna covered the entrance. A moment later, the two brawlers returned, Zell crouching next to the control panel for the door.

"You know how to operate this thing?" Laguna asked, and Zell shook his head, and smashed his fist through the panel. An instant later, the outer door slid open.

"Welcome to the Zell Dincht School of Locksmithing," explained the brawler as the double doors slid open, revealing a corridor beyond. "Let's go."

* * *

Rinoa's contact had vanished, leaving Squall alone again. He glanced up at the security camera, and nodded slowly, as if reassuring his observers that he was going to do what they wanted him to do. He figured he'd only have a moment to cut the glass now that Rinoa had left, which meant he had to act, _now._

Squall started to stand, when the camera's indicator light cut off. He paused for a moment, confused, and finished standing. Then, the door to the interrogation room swung open, and in stepped an odd-looking man with a wide-brimmed hat, strange cross-shaped tie, and weird, formal attire.

"Good day, Commander Leonhart," the man said with a smile. He waved his hands in the air around him. "Please, feel free to speak freely. We're currently enclosed within a time nullification field. For all intents and purposes, the rest of the world is still around us, leaving us free to exchange words before moving on."

"What?" Squall replied, confused, and the man chuckled.

"Forgive me," he explained. "I felt the need to explain my actions before introductions." He crossed an arm over his chest and bowed formally.

"My name is Alucard, Commander Leonhart."

"The man who attacked Quistis," Squall answered, and Alucard chuckled.

"If by 'man' you mean 'human' and by 'attacked' you mean 'assaulted with intent to kill', then you are far from the mark, Commander."

"Okay, fine," Squall replied, shaking his head. "Who are you?"

"A consummate meddler in affairs that demand meddling, Commander," Alucard said with a smile. "This one screams for my particular brand of meddlesome troublemaking."

"What are you here for?" Squall demanded.

"The door is open, isn't it, Commander?" Alucard replied, gesturing toward it. "I'll save you the trouble of cutting the glass. Interestingly, someone decided to put your gunblade, sidearm, combat knives, and Guardian Forces in a locker just outside as well. How thoughtful, wouldn't you say?"

"Very," Squall answered, looking over the figure in a new light. "Why?"

"The woman named Illarra is of interest to me, Commander," responded Alucard with a shrug. "The conflict you are enmeshed in is far greater than you can imagine, and through her, I suspect I can find my way deeper into this conflict. There, I an . . . Meddle some more, as needed."

"You want me free so you can chase down Illarra?" Squall asked, and Alucard nodded. "Rather risky," Squall continued. "If you want her alive, you'd better get to her before I do."

"I certainly hope to," Alucard explained. "But, even if she doesn't survive, the failure of her plot will flush out those she is connected with. Keep your eyes open, there is an enemy within Garden itself that is intent on your foes' success."

Squall nodded, but was actually surprised that his suspicions of a traitor were true. The Commander was actually somewhat suspicious of Alucard as well, but something about the man put him at ease, however. Squall didn't know what, but it was as if he could trust this stranger more than most normal people.

"Okay, one more thing," Squall asked. He gestured to the room around him. "What the hell?"

"Temporal nullification field," Alucard replied. "You and I are in an alternate pocket of time in which things flow normally while the rest of time is still. Its like a bubble in time's flow, so to speak. Difficult to comprehend, but that's why humans rarely develop this kind of time spell. Regardless, the moment I break the spell, time reverts to normal and you will be right where you were the second this bubble was raised."

Squall wasn't sure he understood, but then, he didn't need to. He found himself really trusting Alucard, so he quickly rose and moved toward the doorway. He stepped out into the control room, to fid it empty, just as he'd expected. Squall moved to one of the lockers lining the far end of the room, and opened it, revealing just what he needed: his wepaons and GF stones. Squall quickly donned his gear, sliding his knoves into their sheathes, clipping on his Lionheart gunblade and scabbard, and holstering his pistol. He equipped his Guardian Forces, and the power surged through his body, hardening his muscles and increasing his clarity and senses.

"The SeeDs on duty will return in moments after I dispel this," Alucard warned.

"Right," squall answered. Not that he would need to worry about it. "Thanks for the help."

"I meddle when I must," Alucard replied as squall turned toward the door. "Now, I bid you farewell, Commander."

Squall looked back, and froze, confused, for Alucard had vanished where he had stood. An instant later, two SeeDs walked into the interrogation control room, and Squall's hands became filled with more important things.

* * *

There were eight of them, fully armored and armed with stun batons and heavy bludgeoning hammers. Heavy armor and helmets covered their bodies, shielding them from the improvised weapons the local populace liked to use. They pushed their way through the tunnels, glaring at the ragged, heavily clothed collection of prisoners around them, who quickly moved out of the way, though their actions seemed as if they were extending a favor, instead of the fearful scurrying that the men wanted. 

They descended the stairs leading along the edge of the main cavern, the walls glittering with ice, and turned down a side passage near the base of the room. Prisoners gave way, whispering among themselves, and a couple chuckling. One older prisoner shook his head, and stepped into their path, crossing his arms.

"Move, scab," the head guard ordered, and the man raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Hey, relax," the bearded man quickly replied. "Look, I know you guys think you're hot shit, right? Been up with the main populace up in Lockdown, beating asses and living nice and in-charge, right? Never been to the Undercity before, though, have you?"

"No," the lead guard replied. "Now get out of the way."

"I know what you're here for," the older prisoner replied quickly. "You want to bring in The Governor, right? We know he's got the order on him, and we won't interfere, but remember, this is the Undercity. The only law down here is The Governor's law, and not the prison's. You guys think you're tough, but The Governor is . . . ."

"Move," the guard replied one last time, and pushed the man out of his way with the hammer.

"Fine, then. Looks like new armor and weapons for us tonight," the prisoner responded. The guards ignored him, and pushed through the ice-caked tunnels, descending deeper into the area before arriving at a door, flanked by two prisoners in heavy coats, wielding makeshift spears. They moved aside as soon as they saw the guards, and the lead man pushed through the crude wooden doors.

He stepped into a circular room, dark, but lit by the ember so a dying fire. The rest of the guards filed in behind him, spreading out across the chamber. Their eyes locked on the figure in the center of the room as he sat upon a stalagmite that had been chopped off at waist-height, now used as a stool.

"You have been summoned," the lead guard stated calmly, staring at the man's back as he looked down at the fire. "We have orders to bring you up to Lockdown."

"Again," muttered the man, who chuckled darkly. The old, worn coat that dropped his shoulders rippled with the laughter. It was tattered and ripped in dozens of places, and couldn't possibly protect him from the cold. The once-white garment was now almost all gray, with some parts black from dirt and grime. Dull, dark red stains slashed across the outfit's frayed weave, bloodstains from many years of battle and death.

Slowly, the man turned his head away from the fire, his blonde hair dropping down his forehead. It was messy and uncleaned, much like his coat, and needed to be cut. Once regal and smoothed-back, in control, it was now ragged and loose. The light from the fires reflected in steel-gray eyes, crimson highlights flashing through them as he regarded the men with an air of boredom and a very subtle and terrifying sense of danger. He was like an animal, half-tamed, and waiting to be unleashed. A slow smirk crossed his face, not a cocky one, but of a beast about to sink its teeth into helpless prey.

The lead guard shuddered as he looked at The Governor, and tensed up as the man reached into his coat slowly.

"Trying to take me to my execution again," he whispered, and laughed. It wasn't a mirthful laugh, but a low, mocking one, that of a man staring at a beaten, helpless opponent he was about to finish. "You people never learn . . . Trapped up in your own superiority because of Lockdown's broken prisoners you can torture and rape whenever you want. This is the Undercity, boys . . . And here, _I_ rule."

He stood tall, seeming to tower over the men in the chamber, his bare chest revealed beneath the coat, muscled and powerful. A black pair of dirty, worn pants, and old, battered boots covered his legs and feet. A crude sheath of leather was belted to his waist, and the figure slowly pulled out a long, slender blade, black, with a silver edge. It looked like a saber, with a curved, slender, elegant blade, and a deadly sharp edge. The man twirled the sword in the air once, and then leveled it at his opponents in a modified fencing pose.

"Now, gentlemen, please die," The Governor stated, and shot forward, into their midst.

Blood flew from one man's throat as the saber flicked across, taking out his neck in a deft slice. The Governor spun, stabbing his blade into the armpit of a second guard, the blade stabbing out the other side. The other guards began to react, raising their weapons, but by that time, The Governor had spun around, flipping the blade over and stabbing behind him, into the neck of a third man. He ripped the blade free and hopped back, dancing out of the enemy's range, and quickly dove back in with a duck and spin, rising up with a flashing cut that severed a man's head.

Four men died before anyone could counter, and finally, one of the guards rushed the Governor, thrusting with his stun baton. Almost casually, the Governor caught his wrist and slapped it out to the side, leaving him wide open as a swinging backhand sliced off his head as well. The Governor then ducked and stepped back as a hammer flew for his head, and spun low, thrusting up with both hands as he came to face the attacker. The guard fell back, clutching at his chest, where the saber had stabbed, and the prisoner quickly pulled the weapon free. He spun around, in time to snap the weapon up and catch a flying hammer by its handle. He span the thrown weapon around once on its handle before redirecting it to crash against the wall. The Governor turned toward the thrower, who was now unarmed, and chuckled.

"My turn," he responded, and the saber went dancing end over end, crossing the room faster than an eyeblink, and imbedded itself in the guard's left eye. As the guard fell to the floor, the Governor walked over calmly and tore the weapon free, before turning on the last, terrified man in the room, the lead guard. He walked over, twirling his bloody sword in the air couple of times, and slapped the back of the man's hammer-hand with the flat of the saber. The guard dropped his weapon in shock and fear.

The Governor grabbed the terrified man and lifted him up with one frighteningly strong hand.

"Sending punks like you to take me to my execution," he muttered, shaking his head. His eyes bore a mixture of malice and disgust directed at his gibbering victim. "Idiots."

"Not execution!" the man stammered. "We weren't taking you for execution!"

"Then for what?" the Governor asked, suddenly interested.

"The doctors wanted to see you," the man replied, and the Governor chuckled.

"I'm in fine condition, and they don't care about the health of people in the Undercity anyway, so its not for a checkup. What do the good Doctors Nash and Odine want today?"

"Nash didn't say anything," the guard responded immediately. "Odine mentioned an experiment involving GFs, though. He asked that you to be brought up here."

"And that fool sent inexperienced thugs down here to pick me up?" the Governor growled, and chuckled. "Man, he's dumber than I thought. Alright, pal. You'll live, on one condition. Run up top, back to Lockdown and the labs, and tell the Doctors that the next time they want me to be in any experiments, come down themselves. I'd be happy to gut them any day."

Without waiting for a response, he hurled the guard at the door, which flew open. The unarmed man rose and scrambled away, rushing out of the tunnels, immediately greeted by hoots and jeers from the prisoners. Several of the swathed prisoners looked into the room, and nodded at the carnage.

"Get someone in here to clean this up," the Governor ordered, returning to his seat, where he stared at the fire contemplatively. "I need some peace to think with, and I can't with blood and bodies laying around."

As the prisoners moved at his order, the Governor stared at the embers before him, considering what had just transpired. He was not foolish enough to disregard what the guard had given up; they had been trying to bring him up for execution for at least a few weeks now, but no truly serious effort had been made to kill him. The guards up above knew that the Undercity, under his direction, was too dangerous a place for them to tread if it's citizens were turned against them. His personal elimination of the guard teams sent to take him away was solely to demonstrate to the prisoners why he had become the new Governor of Iceblood Prison's Undercity.

_The Doctors,_ he mused. _What do they want? Odine might want me just for any kind of GF-based experiment, but Nash? What would Nash need me for? Unless he wants to know how long-term GF exposure would interact with the Elemental Project? For that, he'd need a SeeD, or someone close to one . . . Like me._

He glanced down at his saber, in its sheathe, and snarled. If Nash wanted him, he'd have to come and take him. The Governor drew the saber, and held it before him, looking into the polished steel of the blade. He ran a thumb over the numerous scars across his face, and stopped at the one threading between his eyes. It was one of the few reminders of who he was. It, and the coat, were all he had left of his past.

_I have no past worth mentioning,_ he thought to himself. _Son of a Dollet soldier and a prostitute. A failed mercenary cadet. A failed Sorceresses' Knight. A failed friend to those who needed me. All I am now . . . is just a sword looking for a target. A battered warrior waiting to die in this hellhole._

He chuckled.

_If that's my payment for my sins, so be it._

_

* * *

-

* * *

_

Oh my, who is this newcomer! Could it be? Is it? Has he finally appeared? Heehee._  
_

I apologize for the relative lack of action this chapter. I knew that if i included what I wante dint his chapter, it would become this tremendous monster. So, I broke off the set-up chapter for Squall's escape and Zell's entry into the enemy base from the actual action. Next chapter, expect to see SeeD get owned by Squall and enemy soldiers getting crushed by Zell and Laguna's bunch! You might see more of Selphie and Irvine, too!

There is a reference to Die Hard: With A Vengance in there, very, very easy to find.

And with no further hesitation . . . .

Peptuck's **Great Raging Shining Shout-Outs of Passion!**

**Chris Ganale:** Revenge was, beyond a doubt, one of the most badass flicks I've seen, ever. Holy whoa.

**Solid Shark:** This whole story is one big cliffhanger. XD

**Daniel Wesley Rydell: **You might be onto something there . . . .

**Anime Obsessed Fan:** No, the conspiracy will only be stopped by the brave actions of a few dedicated, passionate heroes fighting for GREAT JUSTICE YAAAAH!

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** You will know . . . eventually. Oooh, I love playing with the readers' minds!

Illarra will die, hopefully. But she will make Squall's life unbelievably worse before the end.

I say nothing on the litte girl in the limo! She is my big huge evil death killy secret!

**OniRazz:** Lex certainly isn't the traitor. :P Yeah, I need to put an end to the running and get to the fortress of DOOM! Irvine Kinneas and the Temple of DOOM! YAAAH! And wait until the leahs is droppe don squall. Asses will be kicked liberally, and in good measure!

**Leonhartilly:** Bah. T'was a typo.

**LittleGenius90:** Yes, Zell is sickeningly strong. He is very powerful, make no mistake. Raijin's even stronger, though XD

**Karaoke Risa:** Oh, trust me, this story will explode in scope once Squall gets through this day . . . .

**E:** I love writing ass-kicking, with any character, Zell included.

**Prodigy:** Sorry I haven't been reviewing. I've been pretty busy writing my stuff, obviously, considering how fast I'm cranking out these chapters. And if you thought Laguna kicked ass last chapter, wait until the next one! Hee.

That everyone? Great. Now, I need to stop eating cookies during typing, makes me all hyper.

Until next chapter!


	9. VIII: Stillness

_**Chapter 8: Stillness**_

"What the-"

"The Commander is-!"

The two SeeDs didn't get a chance to finish whatever it was they were saying. Squall's left hand dropped to his gunblade's handle and pulled the weapon out in a single smooth jabbing motion, the handle leaping from the scabbard and smashing into the chin of the SeeD on the left. At the same time, Squall's right hand balled into a fist and smashed into the rightmost SeeD's nose, crushing it and rocking him back. Squall stepped forward, around the SeeD, and his elbow slammed into the side of his head, hurling him against the wall and blasting him into unconsciousness. The other SeeD was still dazed by the impact, and Squall snapped his left leg up into a kick that hurled him away.

In less than two seconds, Squall had taken down two of Garden's best with two moves each.

The Commander paused at the bodies, grabbing one man's personal radio and clipping it to his other ear, and then stepped over the men's unconscious bodies and moved cautiously down the hallway outside. He closed the door behind him and locked it, using his personal code. He was a bit surprised it actually still worked, but he doubted anyone realized he had escaped. It would take some time for them to realize that, and if he was lucky, Squall would be long gone by then. In the meantime, his codes would be useful for getting around unseen.

Squall kept close to the wall, ears primed and alert as he advanced. This route would lead him toward the elevators, though he'd be a fool to actually take the lift up. An enclosed, easily viewable space was a surefire way to get seen, surrounded, and captured.

The elevators were a short distance ahead, past an intersection, and Squall paused at it, quickly drawing a knife and pressing his back to the wall. He started down the corridor ahead of him, and made sure no SeeDs or cadets were coming from that direction, and used the reflective edge of his knife to check the corridor beyond. The mirrored edge of the weapon showed the path was clear, so he stepped out into the hallway and quickly toward the elevator. Squall hit the call button, and the lift rapidly descended. The Commander ducked around to the side, pressing against the wall by the elevator, and waited patiently as it dropped.

The lift stopped a moment later, and Squall, waiting with his knife's reflective edge, was able to see a single SeeD on board. Before the elevator doors had even completely opened, Squall rolled around the wall and into the lift, an uppercut rising up into the SeeD's jaw that staggered him. Squall grasped the front of his uniform and spun, slamming the man against the wall and knocking him out cold.

Squall started the elevator up, sending it toward the upper floors, but brought it to a halt it after only a second with a quick jab of the stop button. He fired off a quick bolt of fire magic into the control panel to keep the elevator in place, and then reached up toward the ceiling, an popped open the topside maintenance hatch, before quickly climbing up. Once up inside the shaft, Squall located the ladder and began climbing. He didn't have a lot of time, though disabling the elevator would slow down the rest of Garden from finding and recapturing him. What he needed now was to find a way out, and Squall figured he knew an effective way outside; the only catch being that it was on the second floor.

* * *

Zell's arms shot out and snatched the unsuspecting Estharian officer as he passed the supply room. With frightening strength and speed, he yanked the man off his feet and into the supply room that Zell had been crouched within. Lex shut the door behind them as Zell launched the man across the room to crash heavily into the wall, where he was quickly grabbed by Fujin and pushed back against it. She pointed one of her chakram at his throat, the tip of the blade poking into his neck. At the same time, Raijin stepped forward and grabbed the front of his helmet, and ripped off the faceplate, exposing the man's head to the intruders, and pointedly removing his radio so he couldn't call for help. 

"Think dragon," Laguna muttered to Raijin quietly as Zell stood in front of the disarmed and exposed officer. "Only with eyebrows."

Raijin nodded and stepped in front of the man, crossing his arms and doing his best to look intimidating, which made him look really damn intimidating.

Between the blades pressing into his armor, the two mean-looking muscle-bound warriors, and a distinct lack of comprehension and a great deal of shock, the soldier was thoroughly intimidated by his opponents, and was quickly receptive to answering their questions. He accepted the punch across the face that Zell offered and was knocked out cold in an instant.

"They're holding Ellone in this room," Laguna said, recapping what the officer had given up. He held up a small projector that displayed a holographic ma of the base, and highlighted a room just outside what looked like a large underground hangar complex. "it's a secondary communications facility. She's being held by a man named Simmons."

"I know that name," Lex piped in. "A mercenary. Very nasty guy, tends to get hired for some pretty unsavory things."

"Right," Laguna continued. "They guy who took out the train and killed all my men, too. The soldier didn't know too much, unfortunately, but he knew enough. We can approach the room from this angle, through this hallway." Laguna then highlighted a particular stretch of corridor with a number of rooms branching off. "No patrols along this route, as this part of the base is disused, and there's plenty of cover to hide behind if someone does wander by. We cut through there, and get inside the comms room and save Ellone. We use that room to radio for some help, and then pull out until the cavalry arrives. Anything sound wrong with this?"

There was a general shaking of heads, and Laguna nodded.

"Alright, then," he continued. "Let's move out."

* * *

Squall dogged open the hatch slightly, and poked his blade out, the knife's reflective edge bouncing the images in the hallway beyond back to his waiting eyes. The hallway looked clear, and Squall had yet to have heard an alarm in the few minutes since his escape had begun. That was good, but he knew not to trust his luck too well. He had to find a classroom, preferably on the bow side of the structure, which was directly facing Fisherman's Horizon. 

Squall slowly opened the hatch covering the ventilation shaft near the ceiling, and dropped out, landing quietly on the deck in a low crouch. He sheathed his knife again, but kept his hand on his gunblade as he looked up and down the curving hallway. Still no sign of any SeeDs, good. He rose and sprinted down the hall, toward the bow end of the structure.

Running like this would not help him hide, but he didn't need subtlety or stealth at the moment; he needed to _escape_. Squall quickly rounded the hallway, passing by two startled younger cadets, barely into their teens, and continued on. The numbers on the classrooms flashed past as he ran. _H-121, AT-121, AT-221 _. . . He was getting closer to the bow end of Balamb Garden.

Then, a trio of SeeDs came into sight just ahead, around the bend, and Squall wasted no time drawing his gunblade as he barreled into them. All three looked startled, but they were also alert; they must have heard him coming, and were aware that Squall was a prisoner in the lower levels, so they had their hands on their weapons as a precaution. They weren't expected him to so suddenly appear and attack, however, and the trio only managed to react after the flat of Squall's gunblade had smacked against one SeeD's temple, knocking him to the floor in a daze.

Squall spun as the other two drew their weapons, a war-axe and a halberd, and his gunblade rang solidly against the head of the axe as he snapped it across. The blade twisted around the axe, Squall deftly maneuvering it around the head, and it dove forward, at the SeeD's face. The SeeD recoiled, surprised Squall was acting in such an apparently lethal manner, but the Commander did not follow through with the strike. He whirled on the other SeeD, raising his blade and catching the descending head of his halberd as he chopped down with it. Squall planted a hand against the back of his gunblade and used the leverage to twist the other SeeD's weapon around, driving it down into the axe of the first SeeD. Both weapons dropped down to the floor, tangle dup in one another.

Squall's left elbow shot up, into the halberd-wielder's face, knocking him back, and the butt of his gunblade whipped up into the axe-wielder's forehead, knocking him back as well. The SeeD Commander then spun around fast, leg arcing up into a wide circle-kick that crashed into the halberd-wielding SeeD's jaw and hurled him across the hallway. A second smack with the butt of Squall's gunblade decked the remaining SeeD.

The very first SeeD was starting to recover, so Squall made it a point to nail him in the gut with a vicious soccer kick, launching him across the hall and removing him from the fight.

The SeeDs had been dealt with in less than ten seconds, and Squall ran on. The sounds of combat would not have been lost on those around Garden, and Squall knew he had even less time to escape now. The radio he was wearing was starting to get jammed with reports of a disturbance below, and from SeeDs failing to report in. As Squall came into sight of one of the classrooms at the bow, a sudden call sounded over the radio.

"_Commander Leonhart has escaped from Interrogation One! I repeat, the Commander has escaped Interrogation One!"_

Within moments, a klaxon sounded throughout the entirety of Garden, and Squall knew his time was up. He rushed straight for the classroom, the alarm blaring in his ears, and could barely hear a shout to his left. He glanced that way as he neared the door, and saw a pair of SeeD rushing in his direction, weapons drawn, one leveling a rifle at him.

"Sir!" demanded the rifle-wielder over the alarm. "Drop your weapon now!"

Squall's response was to burst through the classroom door. He entered a chamber filled with two dozen cadets seated behind their study panels, looking up at the blaring alarms and trying to talk to one another. The Instructor on duty stood up as Squall entered, but he paid her no mind, dashing across the room. The SeeDs burst in right behind him, one shouting for everyone to get down as the other opened fire with his rifle.

Bullets cut across the room and the cadets hit the deck as they'd been trained, diving behind their study panels. The air around Squall screamed as bullets flew past him, impacting against the panels and floor around the Commander. One cracked into his shoulder blade, but Squall seemed to ignore the sudden pain, raising his left hand and pointing it at the window. Fire ripped past him, melting a chunk of the wall as he ran on. Icy magic surrounded his palm, and lanced out at the glass impacting against it and freezing the window. Squall ran up to it, raising his gunblade, and spun around in a whirling slash that chopped into the frozen glass and shattered it.

Then, without missing a beat, Squall jumped out the window, leaving both pursuing SeeDs shocked and amazed at the suicidal act.

* * *

"Yes, sir," came a voice from the inside of the room, and Laguna paused, furrowing his brows. 

"I know that voice," he whispered. He glanced back at his comrades as they crouched down the corridor, in a darkened segment of the base. Raijin and Fujin were taking cover in a doorway leading into an abandoned supply room, while Zell and Lex were pressed against the walls, almost invisible in the darkness. Laguna was crouched closest to the communications room, just outside the light cast by the harsh fluorescent bulb outside the room's door.

"Understood. Thank you, sir," the voice continued. "All right, boys. The Director's done with our comms network. Let's move back to the main room now." There was the sound of a general collection of men standing up, gathering equipment, and speaking among themselves, and the group of intruders ducked further back into the shadows around the corner.

"Who is that guy?" Raijin asked.

"One of the old Adel loyalists," Laguna replied. "Hard-core and fanatical. Wasn't sure with his voice over the radio, but I'm certain of it now. Back when Adel was in charge, that was Staff Sergeant Eric Malachi. One of the best men in her regime. Heard he was dead . . . ."

As he was speaking, a group of soldiers filed out of the room, moving up the corridor, but Malachi was still in the room, apparently speaking with someone.

"Now, you be a good boy and behave," he snarled to whoever else was in the room. "You do anything to the hostage without orders, and I _will_ make sure you can't do it again."

There was a sigh from inside the room, and a moment later a large, powerfully built man with a blue beret and sniper rifle strode out of the room, walking up the corridor. Laguna watched him go, and nodded.

"That's Malachi," he confirmed. "And they must have Ellone in the room. That man inside must be Simmons, then."

"We can't leave Ellone," Zell muttered. "Not alone with that guy. Let's get in there!"

As Zell was speaking, Simmons crossed the communications room and closed the door. With a grin, he locked it, numerically sealing the doorway, to ensure Malachi wouldn't walk in on him again.

"Ah, privacy, finally," he said, and looked back at Ellone, a sick smile crossing his face. He walked toward one of the consoles and started tapping buttons. "Better get to work on this now. Just a little bit and . . . There. Set to record, and . . . Done." He turned back to Ellone, twirling his pistol absently.

"Illarra wants me to ensure I can broadcast a live transmission of what I'm going to do to you, if your brother doesn't come through. Of course, she also wants me to be bale to transmit it after he goes through with it, too, just to piss him off." Simmons chuckled.

"But hey, I figure that a recording is just as good as a live broadcast, and with Major Fucktard out of the room and locked outside, there'll be no more interruptions. I'm getting sick of waiting around for this." Simmons crossed the room, smile expanding and dropped his pistol on the table beside him. He ran his eyes over Ellone, and saw her shudder. The mercenary's smile grew even wider. He liked them scared and helpless, just like this.

"Now, let's get started, shall we?" Simmons said, advancing toward her, a hand dropping to his pants. "How about right . . . ."

"_NOW!"_

Simmons spun, and then was sent hurling back as the door exploded inward, hurtling across the room and slamming into the mercenary, smashing him against the far wall. Zell Dincht plowed into the room, Raijin right beside him, and with Laguna a step behind.

"Ellone!" he shouted as he rushed in, rifle in hand, and spotted her, relief exploding through the President.

"Laguna!" Ellone gasped, a smile filled with surprise, joy, and hope spreading across her face. "Zell!" The brawler rushed across the room, Raijin with him, and they quickly pulled her to her feet. The two muscle-bound warriors wasted no time removing the manacles, gripping the cuffs and simply pulling them apart, the metal ripped open by their raw strength. In seconds, Ellone was free for what felt like the first time in months. She grabbed the first person near her, Zell, and hugged him tightly, which caught the brawler off guard. Beyond them, Lex had entered and stepped over to the communications boards.

"The comms system is offline," muttered Lex as he looked over the panels. "They locked it down. No way we can send a message without access."

"We'll improvise," Zell replied.

"Right," Lex continued. "Hmm. I think I can . . . Well, the best I can do is rig this thing up to send an anomalous signal as far as it can. Just a moment, and . . .there. Got it."

There was a groan from where Simmons had fallen, and Laguna stepped over to the mercenary, who was halfway covered by the fallen doorway.

"You're Simmons," Laguna snarled, and he looked back to Ellone. "Elle, he didn't hurt you, did he?" She shook her head, and looked to the mercenary, hate and disgust filling her eyes.

"No," she said quietly. "But he was close."

Laguna turned back toward Simmons and, anger filling him, he kicked the mercenary in the gut, making him groan in pain again.

"Get outside," Laguna said quickly, glaring at the mercenary. "I'll be with you guys in a second." Without a word, the group rushed outside, where Fujin was waiting, and Laguna pointed his rifle at Simmons' head. The mercenary looked up, dazed, his eyes focusing on the rifle.

"Who hired you?" Laguna demanded. Simmons blinked, and Laguna kicked him savagely in the ribs again, eliciting another groan of pain.

"Who?" Laguna snarled, and Simmons shook his head.

"The Director," he muttered.

"Director of what?" Laguna asked.

"Estharian Bureau of Intelligence," Simmons stated, and Laguna paused, eyes widening in shock.

_Crell Varines? One of the Wisemen? What the . . . How? How the hell did he . . . ._

"He's a loyalist," Simmons continued. "To Adel. All of them are. Not the Wisemen, but all the guys planning this. They've been planning it for years . . . Ever since you took out Adel. He was Major Virago, back under Adel's regime."

"And Ellone?" Laguna asked.

"Blackmail," Simmons explained, grunting in pain as he clutched his ribs. "Blackmailing Leonhart into blowing up Garden, and assassinating Cid Kramer, President Caraway, and Duke Haroldington. Illarra wants your son to do it all himself, so she can laugh at him the whole time. Fucking crazy bitch . . . ."

"Then what?" Laguna asked, and Simmons chuckled.

"Told you all I know," he explained. "I'm not in the loop here. I don't know anything else about their plans."

"You sure?" Laguna asked, and Simmons nodded.

"Sure." The mercenary seemed to relax, at ease, as if he knew that the admission would keep him safe. After all, Laguna was a civilized man.

"Good," Laguna muttered, and he squeezed the trigger, drilling a trio of bursts into the mercenary's head, blasting it apart in a shower of blood.

Apparently, Laguna was not as civilized as Simmons believed.

"That's for the people you killed today," Laguna hissed at the mercenary's corpse, and turned around, walking back outside. Just as he stepped out into the hallway, there was a pained scream, and the President turned to see an Estharian soldier fall apart, slashed in half by Lex's katana. A second soldier was clutching his throat, where one of Fujin's chakram was buried. She savagely ripped the blade out, and moments later, a klaxon sounded throughout the hallway.

"They've found us," Zell commented, almost unnecessarily, and Laguna nodded, hefting his rifle. An instant later, a fully armed squad of Estharians burst into the corridor from an adjoining passageway, running into a right hook from Zell and a sweeping bo staff strike from Raijin that launched two of the men away. Lex dove into the middle of the formation, katana striking swiftly and cleanly chopping apart two of the enemy in as many seconds. Fujin raised her chakram, wind magic rippling off her fingers and hurling several men down the corridor, while Laguna gunned down an enemy soldier. Ellone dove for and grabbed a dropped plasma rifle as Zell slammed into another soldier, bearing him down and pounding the man's faceplate in. Raijin was right beside him, his heavy staff beating another soldier down, and the battered survivors began to fall back, shouting for a retreat. A chakram buried into one man, Laguna cut down another, and Lex's katana chopped into the gut of the last soldier.

"Time to get the hell out of here!" the SeeD shouted, leaping over the bodies, and the others followed immediately, agreeing wholeheartedly.

The escape had begun.

* * *

Squall rushed out into open air, his feet kicking off the windowsill and launching him high. He didn't leap at full strength, however, and quickly dropped down toward the curving face of Balamb Garden's alabaster hull. 

_The maintenance staff is going to kill me for this,_ he thought as he fell, and hit the hull on his feet. He quickly slid onto his back as his boots slipped on the glassy-smooth hull, and started to plummet down the face of the structure. Without hesitating, Squall flipped his gunblade over, and stabbed Lionheart into the Garden's hull, driving the blade in deeply. The weapon's flat side was angled downward, to slow Squall's descent, and in that regard it worked well. Within moments, the gunblade had stopped him cold, and Squall was left hanging on the side of Garden, barely supported by his weapon.

He got his feet underneath him, and started to awkwardly stand. In the brief few seconds that Squall had spent dropping and sliding, he had descended halfway to the first level. Squall put his hand into the crease he had sliced, and scanned the area ahead of him, nodding as he did so. Directly off Garden's bow, less that fifty feet away, was one of the numerous water towers ringing the city, well within jumping distance. Squall gathered his legs beneath him and hurled himself across the distance, pulling his gunblade free, and flying through the intervening air between the two structures.

His aim was true, and Squall landed with a roll on one of the catwalks high up on the front of the structure. He quickly stood and looked back at Garden, seeing dozens of faces staring out the windows at his feat. The Commander paid them no mind and moved out, running toward one of the ladders leading down to the lower levels. In Fisherman's Horizon, with its jumbled, industrial-age architecture and myriad of equipment, it would be easy to escape any pursuers.

Troops from Garden mobilized, SeeDs from both Galbadia and Balamb Gardens rushing out into the metal forest and twisting, jumbled ways of FH to locate the escaping Commander. However, Squall quickly vanished amid the structures of Fisherman's Horizon, disappearing as readily as a ghost escaping from a mortal body.

* * *

The garrison was on alert immediately. A squad of soldiers was no longer reporting in, and the guards at the entrance to one of the bunkers were found dead, to the man. Two other units reported sighting the enemy rushing through the corridors and trading fire with them, always coming away from the battle with casualties. The reports of the weapons the enemy was using confirmed what Malachi had quietly suspected: old model ballistic rifles, hand-to-hand combat, esoteric weapons like katana, a staff, and a bow and arrow. The enemy's prowess also lent his notion credence; Laguna Loire, with his SeeD and ex-SeeD bodyguards, was alive, and had managed to penetrate the base and extract the hostage. 

Things were serious, but not bad, Malachi mused. He had thousands of troops on base going on alert, and the facility was quickly being secured. He directed his men to seal off exits, and ordered them to triple the usual number of guards protecting each area, as well as deployed immediate patrols. His men had specific orders; engage the enemy, and attempt to heard them toward the hangars. Malachi then sent alerts to the men in the hangar, trusting in their overwhelming firepower. They needed Ellone to be recaptured alive, but emphasis was put on killing Laguna Loire, as well as his guards. Malachi himself was en route to the hangars as well, to personally ensure the operation ended with Loire's death.

"Sir," one of his lieutenants said as Malachi stalked through the corridors. "We've gotten a report from the team that was sent to secure the secondary comms room."

"And?" Malachi asked.

"The squad that responded to the alert is all dead," the officer explained. "Also, they report that Simmons was found killed as well."

Malachi chuckled as he neared the entrance to the hangars, and took his rifle off his back. He checked the heavy weapon, a sniper rifle better suited to men in powered armors, and loaded it.

"Got what he deserved," the Major said off-handedly. "The Director needs to choose men who think with their heads, not their cocks." They neared the door, and Malachi paused outside as the officer with him readied his weapon. A dozen additional soldiers with them mimicked the maneuver, and Malachi stepped through the door, into the expansive chamber beyond.

"Let's end this," he snarled.

* * *

"Duke Haroldington," President Hibrom Caraway said with a warm smile, extending his hand to his counterpart of Dollet's government. The heavy-set, officious Duke of Dollet captured the extended hand in his own grasp, a similar smile on his face. 

"President Caraway," he replied. "Its an honor to finally meet you face to face." As he spoke, a thousand flashes filled the air around the two leaders as reporters from across the planet took pictures of the historic meeting of national leaders. The last Duke of Dollet had been on particularly hostile terms with Vinzer Deling; the notion of a Galbadian and Dollet leader smiling at each other, much less shaking hands, was enough to draw attention.

"Our countries have had our differences," Caraway continued as the two turned away from the train station, their respective entourages following right behind them. "but today I hope we can get past them and establish a real, lasting peace."

"War is a tiresome business, I agree, President," the Duke continued as they walked out into the open plaza beyond the train station. Both national leaders raised their hands as a tremendous applause filled the air from thousands of people, many of them journalists and many more citizens of Fisherman's Horizon. The two leaders then moved out onto a central platform, surrounded by dozens of blue and green-uniformed soldiers.

"Security is tight," Caraway commented. "But that's expected."

"Yes, sir, it is," said a man approaching from the Duke's right, an aged, weathered blonde Dollet Marine in full gear. His shoulders were bare of any insignia, but Caraway could tell from his expression and bearing that he was a commanding officer, particularly by the experienced green-eyes he possessed. The Dollet Marine extended his hand to Caraway.

"My apologies, sir, I forgot to introduce myself," he continued. "My name is General Randolph, Dollet Marine Corps. I'm head of security at today's proceedings, at least on the Dollet end."

"Pleased to meet you, General," Caraway replied, and extended his hand. Randolph shook it, and gestured to the trio of podiums.

"We've got the entire plaza secured, sirs, no one gets in or out during the speech. There's a dozen sharpshooters and nearly seven hundred men on duty, including Galbadia Garden SeeDs. E would have more, but the Estharian delegation and troops haven't shown up yet."

"Odd," the Duke of Dollet mused. "I wonder where President Loire is?"

* * *

The butt of Laguna's rifle cracked into the back of the officer's skull, and the man fell limply to the floor. Raijin crushed the last enemy soldier before them between a staff and a hard place, while Fujin, Zell, and Lex loosed a barrage of fiery magic down the corridor behind them, ripping into the ranks of a squad of enemy soldiers and forcing the survivors to take cover before the onslaught. 

Laguna leapt over the body before him and moved to the door just ahead. Raijin was right beside him, and he slapped the control panel, opening the doorway. Laguna moved into the portal, sweeping it with his rifle, and found himself looking on a massive room with no enemies in sight. He waved Raijin and Ellone forward, and the others were right behind them.

"Whoa!" Raijin commented as Laguna rushed into the room. A moment before, he'd only had a glimpse at its dimensions, but now that was actually inside the room, the vastness of the chamber amazed him.

It was almost a mile long and about half that length wide, tunneled out of the rock A hundred catwalks criss-crossed the walls and stretched across the expanse, surrounding what looked like eight massive structures, hovering in the air over ocean waters below. To Laguna's left, a wide, gargantuan door stretched along the length of the hangar, doubtless for the massive structures that were contained within. The sheer size of the place astonished the Estharian leader.

"Holy shit!" Zell declared as they entered. His eyes tracked over the huge structures, and the SeeD did a double-take as he saw them.

"Hey, those look like . . . " Lex began to say.

"Garden," Zell finished.

Indeed, Zell was correct. While not possessing the exact shapes of Balamb or Galbadia Gardens, these structures were similarly designed, featuring the wide base, tall, rising structures, and the distinctive glowing, circular anti-gravity rings that marked the unique flying structures used by Garden and SeeD as their mobile bases. But while the Gardens were things of beauty, unique, flowing creations that were as much art as they were functional, these structures were simply huge domes set upon wide bases, tapering down to narrow tips around which solid, glowing rings circled. They were nothing more than mass-produced weapons, gunmetal-gray war machines.

"What the hell are they doing?" Raijin muttered, and then, the group could see what was below, in the open spaces around the central domes of the massive fortresses. What looked like hundreds, or thousands of soldiers were moving around inside the fortresses, along with legions of robotic war machines, vehicles, crates of weapons and supplies, munitions, artillery, even hovercraft and aircraft.

It was an army, a massive, heavily equipped military force using the extreme mobility and carrying capacity of the mobile Centra Shelters that the Gardens had been built out of.

"An invasion," Laguna breathed. "They're preparing an invasion. Everything that's happening . . . Its just setting things up before this army launches its attack . . . ."

Laguna's words were cut off as a plasma bolt slashed past them from a catwalk below, and they were immediately reminded that the situation was still extremely desperate.

"They herded us!" Ellone commented, and Laguna nodded as they moved across the platform they stood on. Behind them, in the hallway they had come from, dozens of enemy soldiers came rushing. Zell took the lead, running down the platform and onto a catwalk beyond. They hurried down it as klaxons resounded throughout the room, and the multitudes of soldiers n the floating structures below began to move.

Zell screeched to an abrupt halt as they neared a branching catwalk spanning off from the current one, and jumped over the railing, down a flight of steps toward another one just below this walkway. The reason why became clear when an entire company of enemy soldiers came running up the path they were using. Fujin tossed a wind spell their way, disrupting the initial charge, and the rest of the group rushed down the steps, Zell landing before them. A single startled soldier was in their path, who Zell dispatched with a spinning kick to the jaw that launched him off the walkway.

"Run, run!" Zell roared as the entire hangar dropped in around them, mobilizing to cut off their escape.

* * *

The door creaked open, and Squall stepped in, pistol raised. He swept the interior of the small building, beneath the large red sign, and saw the old, abandoned building was clear, excepting a single man, bald, with dark skin and smoking another cigarette. Squall recognized him; he was the one who had provided him with the bomb and the earpiece. 

"You again," he muttered, and the man nodded. He reached down beside him, and hefted a briefcase. This one was large, the kind of thing that would be expected to hold a rifle or something, and the man tossed it to Squall. The SeeD Commander opened it, and saw his guess was right: the parts for a sleek Galbadian sniper rifle were contained within, not assembled yet.

"You know what to do with that," replied the smoking man as he walked past Squall, out the door. "Don't waste any time." With that, the figure left, leaving Squall with the disassembled rifle before him.

"_I'm sure you remember the rifle courses, don't you, Squall?"_ Illarra asked him, and Squall grunted. _"You could assemble and disassemble any SeeD, Galbadian, Dollet, or Estharian weapon in your sleep. Put the rifle together and take up a position on the south side of the building. You'll have a perfect shot into the plaza."_

Wordlessly, Squall listened to her, and closed his eyes, before reaching for the rifle's grip. Slowly, silently, the SeeD Commander hefted the weapon's body and slid it into place, a loud _snap!_ filling the room.

* * *

President Caraway stepped up to the podium for the Galbadian Republic, Duke Haroldington standing at the one beside him for the Dollet Dukedom. He tapped the dozen mics before him a couple of times to ensure they were working, and raised his hands at the cheers and shouts, silencing the crowd after a moment. Slowly, calmly, Caraway cleared his throat. 

"Good day, people of the world. As of right now, this message is being transmitted across the world, to any television, radio, or holo-projector that can receive it. Today is a tremendous, historic day for all of us, the world over. Today, the nations of the world are convening under the protection of the finest military forces in the world in order to create the first lasting international peace between our various nations. This sort of event has never occurred before on this scale, and promises to usher in a new era of peace across our planet."

* * *

Zell flipped off the cybernetic soldier's chest, his feet launching the heavy soldier off the platform. A stream of plasma and bullets flew through the space he had occupied moments earlier, cutting down two more men, and Raijin jumped into the gap, crushing a fourth unlucky enemy soldier. Lex and Fujin dashed past, magic erupting from their hands and blasting apart another group of enemy soldiers, and Zell leapt over the pair's heads, landing in the middle of the group and launching them every which way. 

Plasma fire stuttered in all around them. From every catwalk, platform, and walkway hundreds of Estharian soldiers were closing in, many taking potshots at the group as they ran. Enemy fire sizzled against the catwalk they stood on as they rushed forward, bearing in on another group of enemy soldiers directly ahead as yet another group swept in behind them.

A loud _crack!_ filled the hangar, and Lex pitched forward, crying out in pain. Zell spun toward his fellow SeeD, to see an inch-wide hole blasted in his leg, just above his knee. Without his junctions his leg might have been blown completely off. The brawler reached out and grabbed the other SeeD as he fell forward, lifting him up.

"Ah, shit!" Lex shouted, clutching his wound. Zell grabbed his arm as he Estharians closed in behind, waving curved swords and shot-axes, and suddenly Lex threw his arm off, clutching his katana tightly with his other hand. Zell recoiled in surprise, and the other SeeD shook his head.

"I have to," he hissed, leaning against the railing.

A sniper round whizzed past Zell's shoulder, almost blowing his arm off, and the brawler fell back, scanning for the unseen sniper.

* * *

Malachi pulled back the bolt on his rifle again, tracking Zell as the brawler ducked. The rifle kicked, and the round flew past Zell's head. Malachi cursed and pulled the bolt back a fourth time. His aim had never been this bad. Three rounds and no kills? Unthinkable. 

Malachi zoomed in again, swearing he was going to finish the dodging SeeD off. Even if he had to get down and dirty, he was going tofinish this.

* * *

"War is a messy business," Caraway continued. "At times it is quite necessary. The Sorceress War that brought great destruction to all our nations three years ago was necessary to save this world from the threat that the Sorceress presented. Countless men died in that conflict. But, those men who died in that war did not die in vain. Their lives were the necessary sacrifices on the altar of peace that were required to show us how worthless war really is. Those men's lives were not wasted."

* * *

_Do I have a choice here?_

Squall screwed the barrel into place, eyes closed. He felt it close tightly with the body of the rifle, and then reached for the stock.

_Why has this happened to me, here, now?_

* * *

"Go!" Lex shouted, pushing Zell back as another sniper shot impacted nearby. "He'll kill you! Leave me!" Zell hesitated, and then nodded, turning away from Lex and running down the catwalk. The brawler didn't look back, not wanting to dishonor his comrade's decision. 

Lex turned on his wounded leg as the Estharians closed in, axes and swords ready. They advanced quickly, intending to run Lex over and continue on. The first man closed in, axe arcing back.

Then he fell apart as Lex brought his katana back to his sheathe.

"Bring it!" the SeeD shouted, and another soldier rushed in. From shoulder to waist, a long line traced across his body, and he slid apart. Lex took a pained, limping step back, and chopped down another enemy soldier with a whisper of his blade.

A fourth Estharian dove in, stopping just outside the reach of Lex's blade. Not hesitating, the SeeD took a step forward, and the soldier's head went flying even as the blade dropped back down to the SeeD's side. Another soldier shouted something in rage and rushing in low, and his weapon arm fell to the floor in a fountain of blood, followed a moment later by his head, even as he realized he had been cut.

A half-dozen more men died the same way, and the enemy soldiers began to fall back, Lex advancing after them, the wounded SeeD striking hard and fast into their ranks. However, though the SeeD's will was strong, his body was not up to the task. Lex advanced, and suddenly pain erupted in his leg anew, and he fell back himself, almost falling over. An opportunistic soldier stepped forward, and then fell in half as Lex struck again.

The SeeD landed on hi rear, in a sitting position, and tried to rise as the enemy soldiers closed in around him, staying out of reach. Even as Lex began to stand up, one of the officers waved his hand, and a dozen plasma rifles were leveled at the wounded SeeD. Lex paused, seeing the firepower arrayed against him, and clutched his blade tightly. The Estharian officer nodded, and gestured again.

"Fire."

* * *

"A wasted life is lost in the vain pursuit of a dream or ideal, and I pledge to you, people of the world, I will not waste lives again. Galbadia has grown beyond the evils of insane dictators such as Vinzer Deling and Adel Harbringer. with the combined efforts of our great nations, I am hoping that, today, we can ensure that no soldier's life will have to be sacrificed or wasted again in another war."

* * *

_Why me? What is this all about?_

The stock clicked into place, and Squall grasped the scope of the rifle. The scope trembled in his fingers as he clenched his teeth in anger.

_I was happy, until you ruined it. Why did you do this to me, Illarra? What the hell did I do to you?_

* * *

"Illarra," whispered one of the enforcers, and the woman seated at the console turned toward the man. 

"Yes?" she asked. The enforcer, an intelligence agent from the bureau, looked grim.

"We may have a problem at the island," he explained. "SeeDs survived the attack and managed to recover Ellone Loire. They're trying to recapture her as we speak. Simmons is dead."

"Hmph," Illarra replied, and glanced back at the numerous feeds from around the plaza. "Well, then. Squall might get rebellious if he found out. Go to Plan B. Find his girlfriend." She casually pulled a knife from her left wrist sheathe, the same place squall kept a knife of his own, and lazily twirled the weapon in the air.

"I'll enjoy cutting off her pretty little face anyway."

* * *

The others had moved ahead of Zell, Raijin event hen crushing an unfortunate enemy soldier into the metal walkway. Zell chased after them, when a shot from below sizzled up, a massive bolt of plasma that struck the walkway. A ten-foot-long gap boiled away right in front of Zell, and the brawler came to a sudden stop, almost falling over into the water below. 

Something hit the catwalk behind him, but before Zell could turn on his own, a hand grasped the back of his jacket and spun the SeeD around. Zell found himself looking into the scarred face of the man Laguna had identified as Major Malachi.

Malachi seemed to evaluate Zell for a split second, and then head-butted the SeeD. Zell's skull was rocked back by the impact, and he was lifted up and tossed off the platform with casual ease. Zell crashed down hard onto a catwalk far below, and began to rise, a bit dazed, when he heard Malachi land directly in front of him. The SeeD shot to his feet, to see the enemy commander calmly walking forward, cracking his knuckles. No enemy soldiers were immediately around the pair.

"You're Dincht," Malachi stated. It wasn't a question.

"That's the name," Zell replied, and watched with a bit of apprehension as Malachi reached up to his shoulder and drew his knife. Zell rubbed his forehead, which throbbed from the impact with the man's skull. He was strong . . . Too strong for a normal person. Was he . . .a SeeD?

"You've caused me a lot of headaches," the Major replied, twirling the knife around his index finger. He paused, and then extended his knife hand forward, laying the blade back across his forearm. Malachi dropped into a crouch, eyeing Zell from behind his blade.

"Always wanted to test myself against another SeeD," he explained. "The last one I killed wasn't a great fighter."

Zell hesitated, and then nodded, before dropping into a balanced crouch, hands raised in a guard. This guy was serious, he knew. No ordinary opponent; few had killed a SeeD and lived to tell about it.

"Fine, then," Zell replied. He punched the air quickly as he prepared himself.

"You want a real SeeD? Let's go."

* * *

"With the great wisdom and knowledge of our various national leaders and diplomats, we hope to construct a new series of international agreements. We hope that, by working together, we can forge a new, strong, unified spirit between our peoples. Our differences in the past have been great, but we must all understand that every life on this world shares the same planet, breathes the same air, and eats the same food from the same ground. We are one people, and the sooner we can recognize this fact, the better for all of us."

* * *

_Everything she's done today has been planned to ruin me, in one way or another._

Squall calibrated the scope an set it onto the rifle. He glanced through it, ensuring it was working, and then moved toward the window facing the plaza.

_Why? I don't understand this! Why the fuck did shepick me?_

* * *

Fujin buried her chakram into another soldier as Raijin pounded a second into the metal walkway. They leapt over the corpses, and turned as the catwalk bent to the left, and suddenly came to a stop as dozens of enemy soldiers stood in their path, plasma rifles leveled. Laguna glanced back behind then, and saw dozens more closing in on the other side. More men gathered on the catwalks above and below, rifles leveled at the quartet. 

"Freeze!" an officer ordered, and the group set itself up, back to back, facing outward at their foes. Even so, they knew the hopelessness of the situation.

There was no way out for them.

* * *

"I pledge that today, at this conference, we shall unify our nations into one body, a World Council that will forge a new path into the future. Together, we can end war and devote ourselves to ending sickness and poverty, and creating a truly great society on this world. That is my hope, and the hope of all the delegates gathered here today, and I swear that, by Hyne herself, we shall succeed!" 

Caraway raised his hands as the crowd before him erupted into cheers and applause.

* * *

"In position," Squall hissed, and Illarra chuckled. 

"_Speech is done, Squall,"_ she whispered. _"Now, its time to finish it all. Two shots, while they stand there. I know you can do it."_

Squall wordlessly raised the rifle, setting it on the windowsill, and zoomed in. He saw Caraways' smiling face as he waved to the cheering people, and hesitated. That same man had been responsible for so much during the war. Without him, much of their intelligence would have been useless. Without his fighters they would never have invaded the Lunatic Pandora.

And most importantly, Caraway was Rinoa's father.

"Rinoa," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes.

"_What?"_ Illarra asked, and he opened his eyes, narrowing them.

"Fuck you," Squall whispered.

"_Fine, then. Hold on while I pipe you through to Simmons. He'll be very happy."_

"No!" Squall quickly protested, the image of Ellone's face flashing before his mind. He hesitated, and then looked back through the scope.

"_Then do it,"_ Illarra ordered. _"Finish him and it'll all be over, Squall."_

Squall stood there for a moment, and silently nodded. He leaned forward, poking his rifle outside of the window and centering the crosshairs on Caraway's forehead. He settled the sights right between his eyes . . . The eyes of Rinoa's father.

Squall whispered a pair of words for the second time in as many hours that day.

"_Forgive me."_

A single shot resounded through the plaza.

* * *

-

* * *

Oh, boy. What has Squall done? Can Laguna and Zell get out of this mess? What is Illarra planning? No one knows! Except me! Well, at least the day can't get any worse, can it? Things are already bad enough nothing could get any worse for Squall, right? 

Don't bet on it.

**Peptuck's Shout-Outs!**

**TerribleT:** An inspired moment, I assure you. I was watching Die Hard when I wrote that.

**Chris Ganale:** I'll see what I can work up. :P

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Gettin' warmer. You're on the right track, I'll say that.

**LittleGenius90:** Okay, no Irvine and Selphie this chapter. But that's alright, because holy crap! This chapter was tremendous fun to write.

**Solid Shark:** Yep. I'm surprised not many other people caught the Dirty Harry reference.

**OniRazz:** Bingo. He's nobody's bitch. XD

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** German, huh? Sound like fun. Great language for fights. And as for Rinoa, well, remember one of the rules of 24: no matter how powerful you are, if the enemy wants to capture or kill you, they generally do.

**Chloe:** Thank you! I try my hardest.

**Leonhartilly:** He didn't die a horrible death, but hey, he died. And laguna was so cool when he did it, too. I loved writing that scene.

**Kolostramin Indincranin**: Remember in Gunblade, during the final battle with Squall? Hyperion was broken. Just making some continuity between the two stories,a s this is based off the story of Gunblade. Consider Gunblade to be the first part of this storyline, so to speak. And yes, Illarra has a connection with Squall. What it is, I say nothing!

**Psylockian Emperor:** That's cool. A review's a review, except for that "nightblade42876349837645" asshat who posts those damn one-word reviews in Gunblade.

**Nightfire04:** Thanks for the compliment! Yeah, its tangled. Trust, me, though, its getting more and more tangled each chapter. You haven't seen anything yet. Wait until you learn more about Serra . . . .

**Kimahrigirl:** Seifer's part of the story is based off Riddick from Chronicles of Riddick. I'm drawing a lot of inspiration from everyone's smooth bald psycho-killer for his personality here.

As for VAs...well, David Hayter (Solid Snake)is my idea for Squall, with Cam Clarke (Liquid Snake) as Seifer.The guy who did Duo's voice in Gundam Wing is the guy who keeps popping into my head when I think of Zell. Aside from them, though, no, I don't have any idea of voice actors to fit the voices of the characters in my head.

**Anime Obsessed Fan: **Alucard is cryptic, because that's kind of his role in the story. He's the "meddlesome, cryptic olld man with tremendous power hidden within" archetype.

Adel is important to Malachi because he's an Adel Loyalist. Think Nazis with plasma rifles and you'll get the idea. :P

Sorceresses will be fairly important to the plot, but not incredibly so. This plot focuses not so much on the Sorceresses so much as the _source_ of Sorceresses. I wonder what the source of Sorceresses was? That may give you a clue here.

**E:** You're gonna like Zell next chapter. XD

**Lionheart614:** Seifer _is_ a goodguy. just a bit...misguided. :P

**Elachim**: Saving you for last. I need to go get something to drink here before I respond:P

Yeah, I use "blasted" too much. Its a word I keep forgetting has enough synonyms to avoid repeitition. Or maybe its just because I like Star Wars so much.

Illara pronunces it "stat-us". She has an American accent :P

Okay, you win on the eyepatch :P (for now...)

Yes, Randolph is already here, in this chapter. In fact, he may have abigger role than you think. I seed little clues throughout the chapters as to other things that may have signifigance. Very rarely is an off-hand comment or oddthought a mistake; usually I place them very, very deliberately.

As for Serra and Veronica, I say nothing! Except you're a bit warm on that notion.

Alucard's background is made up by myself, for the most part. I'm basing osme of it off another story someone I know wrote, but its not from a myth or legend...that I know of, at least.

Malachi is sort of evil. He's not a nice guy, but he's not a sadistic, vicious person like Illarra, Simmons, or even Crell. He's pretty much just a soldier who liked it under Adel.

I'd like the edited versions, but my computer hates Word and any .rtf files. I can store them but I can't open them. Its a pain in the ass that makes my job so much harder. Also, I write fast because I have nothing better to do than write, as I am on summer vacation. :P that, and my other secret is Red Bull.

The story will be fast-paced throughthis part, but it is going to slow down once the initial struggle against Illarra ends. It'll pick up again once both Squall andSeifer learn...er, I almost spoiled something, didn't I? (Yes, my little readers, cry in torment as I string you along with my little morsel good tid-bits of story!)

Darn spell-checker :P This is what happens when you use something worthless like Works to type stuff. (as a complete side note, "Malachi" always comes out as "MalachI" in Works, for some reason I can't explain. Drives me bonkers.)

"TAKE OF EVERY ZIG" and other all-caps things are references to the ever famous "ALL YOUR BASE" phenomenon from a horribly translated game called "Zero Wing" which had such famous Engrish-ings as "Someone set us up the bomb" and "You are on the way to destruction!" the most famous line, of course, was "ALL YOU BASE ARE BELONG TO US." There's your lesson in internet culture for today, kiddies.

I like the idea of a guesisng game as to the traitor. The traitor will be revealed soon enough. As for _his_ name, I won't tell, and you'll only get minor clues from me. Granted, if you look very carefully, you'll maybe see who it is. I've left a few clues here already.

Yes, yes, Lex is too cool to die. its such an injustice. :P

Yes, Alucard tends to just appear and do things. He's very mysterious that way. he'll have a much more active role in the things to come, I assure you.

Okay, that eveything I can think to respond to? Okay, great. Now, back to work on the next chapter.

Until next chapter!


	10. IX: Motion

_**Chapter 9: Motion**_

"West plaza, clear," came a report over the radio as Sergeant Ed Richards slowly rotated his rifle, scanning the east end of plaza as the President was giving his speech. The Dollet Marine was keeping his eyes open and alert, watching the entire area under his responsibility intently. Fisherman's Horizon was a nightmare for counter-sniper operations, especially in this situation . . . A sniper could be anywhere out there amid the tangles of struts, pipes, buildings, and equipment.

"Northwest plaza, clear," came another report. Sergeant Richards kept scanning for a moment, and then paused as his sight neared a building. He began to move the sight away when a voice cut in over his radio from his commander.

"East plaza, check that building at your eleven o'clock," came a quick order, and Sergeant Richards shifted his aim back toward the building.

"Anything suspicious?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster.

"I thought I saw something over there, movement at one of the windows."

"Roger," Richards said, and began to scanned the building. He paused as he noticed something at one of the ground-floor windows, extending slowly outward from the window as the President was finishing his speech. It looked like the barrel of a-

"_Sniper! East plaza!"_ Richards shouted, and fired, the crack of his rifle echoing across the gathering below.

* * *

A bullet slammed into the wall right beside Squall's head, and he leapt back, pulling his rifle away. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen slightly satisfied smile on Squall's face as he did so. An instant later, more rounds from the unseen snipers slammed into the walls and lanced through the window. Squall ducked and rolled out of the line of fire, taking cover behind the wall. 

Dollet and Galbadia's snipers were smart. When Squall had poked his rifle out of the window, they had spotted the barrel, rightly come to the conclusion he was a sniper, and had reacted with quick, overwhelming firepower.

Just as Squall had planned.

"_Unacceptable, Squall!_" Illarra shouted into his earpiece. _"You failed! Now you're going to have to pay the price . . . And you'll have to explain this to what's left of your sister if she ever comes back."_

"No!" Squall quickly said into the radio. He had hoped that delaying the assassination would earn him some time to think or maybe escape, but Illarra apparently wasn't giving him that option. _Dammit!_

"_Okay, Squall, if you don't want anything to happen to Ellone,"_ she continued. _"Then you're going to have to go for Plan B. Kill them. Now. Get out there, fight past anyone trying to stop you, and cut down both Caraway and the Duke. Let nothing stand in your way. Understand?"_

Squall didn't immediately respond, torn once more between Ellone and . . . Well, everything else.

"_Do you understand, Squall!"_ Illarra barked, and he snarled into the radio, an inarticulate statement that nonetheless told her he understood.

"_Good. No get _out_ there, and make me proud."_

Squall shook his head, and slowly stood up, even s sniper fire rained down on the building. He didn't have much time. Within moments the snipers would have radioed in his location, and an army of Galbadian, Dollet, and Garden troops would close in on his position.

Squall slowly drew Lionheart, not sure what he would do when that moment came.

* * *

Malachi's knife sliced past Zell's face and the brawler hopped back as his opponent came in. The soldier advanced cautiously, cutting across again, and Zell once more backed away, maintaining his defensive stance. 

"Come on, SeeD," the soldier barked, a smile cutting across his face as he suddenly rushed forward, flipping the knife over and stabbing forward with it. Zell twisted aside, catching his arm as it passed before him, and clamped a hand on Malachi's wrist. He pivoted, and raised a leg, launching a powerful kick to Malachi's gut that doubled the soldier over, and spun, lifting him up into the air by his wrist and slamming him hard onto the metal walkway. Malachi bounced up into the air, but righted himself in mid-flight, landing on his feet and spinning around, leading with a stabbing blade.

Zell hopped back again and then to the side, skipping onto the railing along the walkway and jumping off with a spinning kick that caught Malachi across the face. The soldier was spun around, but rather than fall or stumble away in a daze, as Zell expected, he whipped back around with a kick of his own that impacted in the middle of Zell's chest.

The brawler was lifted off his feet and launched down the walkway, crashing heavily onto the metal about fifteen feet away. He scrambled onto his feet as Malachi closed in at shocking speed, blurring across the distance between them, and spinning around for a devastating axe kick. Zell rolled out of the way as the boot slammed down upon where he'd been laying, denting the metal. The brawler came out of the roll by reversing his momentum and shooting forward at Malachi with a rising knee jab to the chin that snapped the man's head back. Zell followed through by grabbing Malachi's knife hand.

_See how good you are without a weapon!_

Zell snapped the soldier's wrist with a flick of his own, and Malachi yelled in pain, falling back and clutching his hand as it poked out at a completely unnatural angle. However, to Zell's surprise, his hand still clutched the long knife tightly, and after a moment, the soldier stopped clutching his hand and looked up at Zell with a weird, knowing smile.

"Last guy I killed tried that one, too," he commented, and with a sickening series of cracks and pops, Malachi's hand seemed to move right back into place, as if Zell had never broken it. The brawler watched in amazement as the soldier switched his knife to his other hand, and then flexed the fingers on the appendage that had been broken.

"What the hell . . . ?"Zell asked, and Malachi chuckled.

"Let's just say that I'm the first of your replacements," he explained. "SeeD's obsolete now. I'm the future." Malachi flew forward suddenly, and Zell responded with a quick spinning kick that caught him under the jaw and sent the airborne soldier spinning end over end across the walkway. He landed on his feet and shot ahead again, flashing toward Zell even faster than before. The brawler raised his fists, preparing another kick, when he jerked back, his chest exploding in pain.

Malachi grinned, twisting his knife inside Zell's chest as he did so.

"Judging by where I hit you, I pierced your left lung, SeeD," he explained clinically. "Not immediately lethal, but it can kill you in the heat of battle."

Zell's response was to suddenly close his hands around the knife in his chest and pull it out, with startling speed, and then launch himself into a backflip. Both his feet slammed into Malachi's chin and sent him tumbling through the air again. Zell landed, stumbling as he felt his feet almost buckle, and planted a hand to his chest, sending pulsing waves of healing energy through his body and into his wound. As he watched, Malachi rose shaking his head, and laughed.

"Good," he hissed. "That one actually hurt."

Malachi jetted forward again knife stabbing at Zell's gut. The brawler slapped both hands down on his foe's wrist as he came in, and his head snapped forward. Both their skulls impacted, hard, but to Zell's surprise, it was Malachi who won, the impact hurling the brawler back. Not even fazed by the impact, Malachi leapt up into the air, knife held in an overhand, stabbing grip, and dropped toward Zell. The blade in his hands was poised to stab directly into Zell's throat.

Malachi fell, and Zell brought both his hands up, as well as his feet. His heels caught Malachi in the stomach while his hands grabbed Malachi's wrist as the knife dove in. It stabbed down into Zell's throat before the blade was stopped cold, digging a small shallow cut.

"Damn," the soldier cursed. "I had you . . . ."

"Not . . . today." Zell pushed back against the knife, forcing it up away from his neck. Malachi's response was to widen his grin and push down harder, with both hands. The knife began to descend, blood dripping from its tip. Zell snarled and pushed back as hard as he could, but Malachi, amazingly, was stronger than even Zell.

The knife slowly descended, and began to dig into Zell's flesh once more.

* * *

"Raptor Lead, do you have good tone?" 

"Copy that, Ragnarok. We are locked on to target."

"Copy that, Raptor Lead. Beam cannon charged. On your mark."

"Raptor Squadron, on my mark . . . Fox Two!"

* * *

The soldiers closed in, and Laguna, Fujin, Raijin, and Ellone clutched their weapons tightly. They were not about to give up without one hell of a fight. 

"Lower your weapons," an officer demanded, and Laguna narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth, about to give a retort, when what sounded like a thousand mighty fists hammering against metal came from the direction of the massive hangar doors. The metal began to deform and everyone's attention was shifted to the doors, and then without any further warning, the portal simply exploded inward, a horizontal column of fire and smoke as wide as one of the Garden knock-offs floating around them.

The noise from a powerful set of engines filled the room, and then, like a mythical dragon erupting from a blazing volcano, the Ragnarok swooped into the chamber, belching fire and destruction from its machineguns.

The response from the soldiers was immediate. At once, the entire group of enemy troops whirled and opened fire as the Ragnarok's cannons blew apart a walkway filled with Estharian troops, sending men and parts thereof flying. Bullets bounced off the armored plating while plasma dissipated harmlessly against the shining, ablative armor of the powerful airship.

Ragnarok cut in its anti-gravity generators, and stopped in mid-air, hovering as what looked like thousands of bolts of energy bounced off its armor plating, barely singing the reflective metal. The response from the airship silenced entire platoons of enemy soldiers at once as its cannons tracked over catwalks thick with the enemy. Metal exploded, bodies vanished, and soldiers continued to fire from nearly every angle conceivable.

In this chaos and confusion, Fujin and Raijin had taken it upon themselves to secure an escape route. Without hesitation, Fujin grabbed Ellone, and Raijin grabbed Laguna, and both brother and sister leapt off the edge of the catwalk onto a clear one below. Before Laguna or Ellone could cry out in surprise, they had both landed on the catwalk below. Raijin dropped Laguna and whirled, smashing another unfortunate enemy soldier into the metal path, and they began to move toward a nearby platform loaded with machinery and equipment. If they could get there, they could signal Ragnarok for pick-up.

"What about Zell?" Ellone asked quickly, and Laguna glanced toward the brawler, his heart gripped by sudden fear as he saw Zell's vicious struggle against Malachi. Laguna's eyes then move dup, spotting a flicker of motion above, and he quickly pushed his comrades on.

"Go!" he ordered. "He can handle himself!" Fujin nodded, and cast a spell in the direction of the platform, a minor fireball that would nonetheless act as a makeshift flare, alerting the Ragnarok to their location.

* * *

Zell pushed up, moving the blade out of his skin, and snarled something as Malachi frowned. The soldier pushed back, driving the blade back down, slowly, millimeter by millimeter. The tip of the knife, stained with Zell's blood, dropped back in, digging slowly back into his skin. 

"No." Zell's words were a firm denial, and he pushed back ferociously, driving the blade out of his neck and up, away from him. His muscles strained and complained as Malachi pushed down again, determined to finish Zell off.

They were so determined, so resolute to resolve this battle, that neither of them had noticed the explosions and destruction raging around them as the Ragnarok poured raw annihilation into the enemy ranks.

Malachi slowly moved the knife down, sluggishly overwhelming Zell's Guardian Force-enhanced strength. Bit by bit, the blade descended, and Zell knew his time was running out. It began to pierce his flesh anew, and Zell gritted his teeth, fighting back with everything he had. The hot metal dug deeper.

Zell caught a flicker of light in the air, and without warning, the pressure suddenly vanished, and he was pushing the blade up out of his neck. Malachi was recoiling, clutching his hands to his chest, and a curved blade that had been driven through his back and out the front of his torso.

Behind him, skin blackened and clothes charred, a battered Lex hit the catwalk and ran forward, grabbing his katana and yanking it out of Malachi's back. He swung the blade over his head, intending to chop it down at the soldier's neck and slice clean through, when Malachi leapt up and over Zell. He landed behind the wounded brawler and spun, the hole in his chest even then starting to seal up somehow. The soldier grinned and raised his knife arm, preparing to return to the battle.

A spotlight swept over the trio, and this was followed an instant later by the roar of massive cannons as the Ragnarok swept its fire over Malachi's position. With shocking speed, Malachi seemed to flash away, running down the catwalk as fire chased after him. He leapt up into the air, landing on another catwalk over fifty feet above him, and kept running as Ragnarok's cannons pursued. Within moments, Malachi had vanished, and Ragnarok turned back toward Zell and Lex, opening its forward entry ramp. As it drifted near the catwalk. Raijin stood at the entrance, leaning down, and extended his hand.

"Come on!" he yelled, and Zell turned, lifting the badly injured Lex and carrying the wounded SeeD with him toward the ramp. Plasma fire came from every conceivable angle, but none of it struck the two SeeDs as they leapt onto the airship's ramp and hurried up it. Ragnarok gunned its engines and backed away from the complex of catwalks and platforms, and spun toward the hole it had blasted in the doors. The engines flared like miniature suns, and Ragnarok leapt out into the free air.

Zell set Lex down on the deck, and Fujin immediately began casting healing spells over him while Laguna hurried to grab a medical kit off one of the bulkheads. While this was happening, Zell grabbed Ellone's hand and quickly started toward the bridge.

"What is it?" she asked as Zell ran frantically through the halls of the airship.

"We need to get in touch with Garden!" he shouted. "They're forcing Squall to kill people, and until he knows you're safe he's going to keep doing it!"

* * *

Rinoa hurried through the streets. The moment she's heard word Squall had escaped, she knew where he'd be going. He had promised her that he wouldn't attempt to hurt her father, but Rinoa knew Squall, and knew how far he would go when he was desperate. Thus, she had set out to find her father and warn him that Squall might try to kill him. 

But when she had heard the gunfire from the direction of the train station plaza, Rinoa knew instantly that things had gotten very bad. She immediately hurried in that direction, praying that Squall had not done what she had feared he'd done. She dashed through the streets as fats as she could, adding some magical assistance to her speed as she sprinted.

Rinoa passed by an electronics store with a series of televisions at the front, the kind that were always showing the news to people who passed by, and hesitated. The image on the screen showed a jerky television camera recording people in the plaza running around, soldiers fanning out, and her father and the Duke of Dollet being ushered away by their bodyguards.

Relief flooded Rinoa as she saw both were uninjured, but that didn't last long. Squall, if he was responsible for the conflagration, might still be trying to get close enough to hurt them, and if he was, she had to stop him. If he wasn't the assassin, then it was even more important she try to protect her father.

Rinoa turned and started past the building. She ran in front of the alley between the store and another, adjacent building, when a hand shot out, clamped around her wrist, and yanked her into the alley.

Rinoa barely had time to let out a gasp of surprise when her arm was wrenched around behind her back and she was pushed up against the wall. She reacted quickly, however, beginning to call up the magical powers of a Sorceress, when something slid around her pinned wrist.

She felt as if the lights had suddenly been turned off. Her magical powers suddenly were stripped away, her ability to sense energy and life vanishing into nothingness, leaving Rinoa figuratively blind. An electrical shock seemed to course through her body for a moment, and in that instant of confusion, her other hand was pulled around behind her and manacled as well.

The words clicked in her mind as she realized what had happened. They were using some type of Odine-made restraints on her. Rinoa twisted her wrists, trying to slip out of the restraints, but her attackers wouldn't let that happen. She was shoved viciously deeper into the alley, where someone grabbed her chin and wrapped a cloth around her mouth, gagging her. She struggled and fought viciously, until another of her attackers slugged her across the face.

Rinoa fell back, dazed, and the men quickly manhandled her down the alley.

"Get her to Illarra," one of them snarled. "Fast!"

Within seconds, Rinoa had simply vanished from the face of Fisherman's Horizon.

* * *

The door blew open at the end of a heavy Galbadian boot, and a trio of heavily armed and armored Galbadian soldiers swept into the room, raising rifles and starting to sweep the interior of the structure the sniper had been found within. The lead soldier had just entered the room when he saw a man right in front of him, literally within arm's reach, brandishing a blue-white sword of some kind. 

Squall was then right in the man's face, the butt of Lionheart shooting up into the man's chin and rocking his head back. His left hand closed over the rifle of the soldier on that side and lifted it up, and his left knee shot up into the man's stomach. Squall's right arm snapped across into an elbow that smashed the nose of the third soldier, and Squall's left leg shot forward. His boot slammed into the soldier ahead of him, lifting him up off his feet and hurling him out the door, into the soldiers gathered outside. The flying body threw the enemy soldiers into momentary confusion, and Squall dashed out the door, leaping over the tangle of bodies.

His jump sent the SeeD Commander hurtling through the air, over the crowd outside the door. A group of Galbadian troops directly behind them was gathered where Squall was coming down, but the sheer speed by which he had struck gave the SeeD the advantage of surprise. He came down hard on one man, stomping him down into the concrete pavement, and came up with a right hook that sent another soldier sprawling,. Squall whirled, foot lashing out and launching a third soldier away, while his left hand drew one of his knives and stabbed it down into a fourth man's thigh, just above his knee. The man cried out in pain, and Squall bowled the soldier over and dashed away.

Within moments, the sniper had vanished, but not for long. Squall circled around and neared the plaza within moments, gunblade out and at the ready as he closed in. Teams of soldiers were fanning out, defending the main platform as another group began to push the two leaders he was targeting to safety.

"_Get after them, Squall,"_ Illarra ordered. _"Kill them. Kill them all."_

Squall hesitated, clenching his teeth tightly, and finally, after an agonizing second of consideration, started forward, fingers wringing tightly around the handle of his gunblade.

* * *

"This is bad," Cid commented as the volume in the command center quadrupled as reports poured in. The map on the main screen switched to show the main plaza, with hundreds of blue and green dots signifying Galbadian and Dollet soldiers as they fanned out. A single red dot indicated the building where Squall had been spotted. 

"The reports indicate he wasn't using lethal force," Xu reported. "He's trying to avoid killing anyone."

"No," Cid replied after a moment, shaking his head. "He's simply minimizing how many people he has to kill."

"Rinoa said that they were threatening Ellone," Xu added. "Would Squall go that far to protect her?"

"She's his family," Cid replied simply. "Squall holds family in the highest regard. He doesn't have much that can be harmed, but that which he does have, he protects fiercely. He'll do whatever he has to in order to keep her safe . . . but he'll do whatever it takes to find a way out of this without hurting anyone else."

"Headmaster!" came a call from one of the technicians, and both Cid and Xu looked to the man. "We've got a transmission from Ragnarok! Its urgent!"

"Patch it through," Cid ordered, and he and Xu grabbed a set of two-way radios, clipping them to their ears.

"Ragnarok, come in," Cid called, and there was a pop of static, followed by the voice of the pilot.

"_This is Ragnarok,_" the pilot named Mike said. _"We've just successfully extracted the survivors from the train attack from enemy hands."_

"We?" Cid asked. "What's going on?"

"_Long story, sir,"_ Mike replied. _"My ship and Esthar's Raptor Squadron were able to locate an anomalous distress beacon and track it to an island with an Estharian military base apparently loyal to the terrorists. We located an underground hangar and were able to breach it an extract the survivors of the attack."_

"Who survived?" Xu asked quickly.

"_Zell, Lex, President Loire's bodyguards, along with the President and his daughter, ma'am,"_ Mike replied.

"You've rescued Ellone?" Cid asked immediately.

"_Yes, sir, she's right here in the cockpit with me,"_ Mike replied. Cid turned toward another technician.

"Harmon, get online with FH's communications network, now!" he ordered. "We need to patch a broadcast through to the entire city! I don't care if we have to hack their networks, but we need to send this message, _now_!"

"Yes sir!" replied the technician.

* * *

Two Dollet troops were standing outside the plaza, rifles up and eyes open for threats. Unfortunately, they lacked the reaction time, experience, and simple skill to intercept Squall in the brief instant he revealed himself. 

The SeeD Commander ducked around a piece of machinery and bolted forward, shoulder-blocking one soldier and launching him into the frightened crowd within the plaza, and spun into a high kick that sent the second man flipping end over end across the battlefield.

Squall dove into the crowd before anyone else could react, and pushed through the collection of startled civilians. He didn't draw a weapon, and thus no one realized his intent until he began to near the platform a moment later.

Three Dollet soldiers were standing on the edge of the platform directly before Squall as he barreled through the crowd, instinct driving him on. There was no hesitation, no thought; Squall couldn't allow himself to think. If he did, he would have realized what he was doing, and to do that would cause him to simply stop in place, refusing to allow himself to go on in the face of the crime he was being forced to commit.

Squall Leonhart was the creature of instinct now, a pure, unthinking soldier, tempered only by a desire to minimize who would die today. Squall would not, under any circumstances, kill an innocent Galbadian or Dollet soldier. Enough innocent blood would be shed in moments; Squall would not spill a drop more.

The SeeD Commander leapt up onto the platform, gunblade seeming to simply appear in his hands. The soldiers before him whirled to face Squall, forming a quick line and jabbing their bayonets at him as he charged. Squall stopped before the stabbing blades and recoiled. The soldiers advanced again, but then Squall reversed his momentum and launched himself over the top of the enemy formation, landing behind them. Even as the Dollet troops turned smartly, bringing their bayonets to bear again, Squall fell upon them with a rising kick that decked one man. His knife stabbed out, taking a second in his gun arm, while the butt of Lionheart smacked into the forehead of the third man, denting his helmet inward and blasting him into unconsciousness.

Without hesitation, the instinctual warrior Squall had become shot forward, away from the falling soldiers before they had even hit the ground, and closed in on a crowd of Galbadian and Dollet troops surrounding and herding away to two leaders, Duke Haroldington and President Caraway. He raised his gunblade, but a momentary flash of hesitation struck Squall ahs he saw their faces.

Wha would he do if he reached them? Could Squall summon the will to punch through their guards and strike the two men down? Would he be able to kill two men undeserving of his wrath?

Would Ellone want him to do that?

Squall's momentary hesitation vanished as another foe stepped into his path, stabbing forward with a bayonet. Squall snapped his gunblade across, parrying the blade, but was surprised as the soldier deftly maneuvered the weapon around and caught Squall's flat-sided counterattack. The man stepped ahead, stabbing with the bayonet in the opening Squall had presented and the SeeD fell back, once again parrying the thrust. A rifle butt shot up after his blade, and smacked Squall across his chin. He snarled and rushed forward, catching a glimpse of his opponent.

_Gray eyes, blonde hair, experiencedexpression . . . ._

"Randolph!" Squall growled as the Dollet general caught his furious charge and turned it aside. His foot snapped forward and caught Squall on the chin, rocking his head back, and Randolph jabbed his weapon forward, the blade almost digging into Squall's neck.

Squall could have parried, but he held back, keeping his gunblade low as the blade poked into his throat. Randolph paused, weapon leveled at squall, and in that instant, a complete silence fell across the plaza, broken only by hundreds of boots and dozens of cocking rifles as Galbadian and Dollet troops leveled their weapons at Squall. A dozen red tracers fell across his chest, face, and throat, marking the snipers scattered around the plaza as they homed in.

"Squall," Randolph breathed in shock, eyes meeting the Commander's.

"Yeah," Squall replied quietly. "Yeah, that's right."

"You were the sniper?" he asked, not believing what he was seeing, and Squall nodded slightly.

"Why?" the general asked, and Squall didn't respond. Unnoticed, he clenched his fist tightly."Why the hell did you do this?"

"I can't tell you," Squall responded truthfully.

"Why?" Randolph demanded.

"Get out of my way." Squall's order was the kind that would make lesser soldiers, and even experienced SeeDs, back away, but Randolph didn't budge.

"I can't do that," Randolph replied, muscles tensing. "What will you do? Kill me?"

"No," Squall replied, and his fist opened.

Time slowed around the SeeD, and he bolted to the side, gunblade slapping Randolph's bayonet away. He dashed past the general, knife jamming into his gun arm, and then an elbow cracking into his backbone as Squall dashed forward. The SeeD Commander rushed at the bodyguards, letting his mind fly away from the horrors he knew he was about to see. A dozen thunder blasts filled the air, and pieces of the metal platform flew into the sky as sniper rounds slammed into the metal around him. The hastening spell propelled Squall forward, at his targets.

Squall Leonhart raised his gunblade, and asked anyone who was watching to stop him, to bring him down, to forgive him for what he had been forced to do for reasons he didn't know. Squall let out an enraged roar as his gunblade cast its light across the plaza, a cry of fury, sadness, regret, and hatred, at a dozen different people all at once. It was the cry of a desperate man, infuriated and helpless at the same time, and one who wanted desperately for a way out of this hell he had been thrust into.

"_SQUALL!"_

The voice resounded within his mind, the familiar tone causing his mind to grind to a complete halt, his ears open and hearing the next words more clearly than he'd ever heard anything in his life.

"_Stop, Squall!"_

Ellone.

She was telling him to stop. Was this a dream? Some desperate cry in his imagination? A subconscious demand inspired by his fervent desire to escape this situation?

"_Please, Squall, stop!"_

No. It was . . . It was real. Ellone's voice echoed across the plaza, a slightly mechanical tone to it that told him it was coming from speakers, not from his thoughts and memories.

Squall's feet slowed, his gunblade dropping, his face, locked in a pained grimace, melting into disbelief.

"_I'm safe, Squall,"_ she continued. _"We all are. Zell, Laguna . . . Everyone is safe. You . . . You don't have to keep fighting anymore."_

For a few moments, a silent breeze passed among the collected soldiers, civilians, leaders, and the one tormented SeeD standing on the plaza, the wind carrying the scent of the ocean before his nose. Squall took a deep breath, and then his gunblade clattered to the plaza, his hands no longer possessing the strength to lift it.

Warmth flowed down Squall's face, and he reached up, his bare fingers coming away with the hot tears he was suddenly crying. Squall felt his knees go weak, and he fell forward, dropping painfully to one knee, and then the next, propping himself up with one hand as a thousand emotions flooded him. Finally, he settled on relieved euphoria, and a rare sound escape his lips.

Squall laughed. He let out a laugh, the sobbing laugh of a reed man, someone safe from the shackles that bound him, a man newly returned to a life he had expected he'd never see again.

It was over, Squall knew. Ellone was safe, and he was free. He continued to laugh for a moment, and then, a hand fell over his shoulders. He looked up, to see Randolph, shoulder bleeding, standing over him, offering him a hand. Squall slowly reached up and took the general's fingers into his own, and rose to his feet.

"Safe your weapons!" came an order, and president Caraway rushed over to Squall, followed by a bewildered Duke Haroldington. All around them, Galbadian and Dollet soldiers lowered their rifles, and the dozen red dots on Squall's body winked off.

"Squall, are you okay?" Caraway asked, and Squall slowly nodded, tears still staining his cheeks.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm fine now." Then, deliberately, Squall reached up to his ear, and pressed the earpiece within more tightly to his eardrum.

"You get all that?" he asked his distant foe.

After several long moments, Illarra finally spoke, a steady, yet clearly angry, tone apparent in her voice.

"_Yes, Squall, we did,"_ she replied. _"Bravo. It looks like your friends pulled through for you after all. They saved Ellone, and now I have no leverage over you. Thus does my grand plan end in failure. So sad, too bad."_

Squall narrowed his eyes. She was taking things way too calmly for someone whose entire plan had been ruined.

"Cid is alive, Caraway and the Duke are alive," Squall continued, as the soldiers around him listened intently to his one-sided conversation. "And I haven't killed anyone today, despite what you did to me. Its over, Illarra, and we'll find you soon enough."

"_Yes, I know,"_ Illarra replied. _"So, to end this all, let's go out with a bang, hm? Garden is to your left, right? Say goodbye to it."_

Squall looked in that direction, prompting the crowd to do the same, and watched Balamb intently. Several moments passed by silently, the crowd waiting in hushed anticipation for whatever Squall was expecting.

"_What the hell!"_ Illarra suddenly demanded. _"Where is the explosion?"_

"You made a lot of mistakes," Squall hissed with a knowing smile on his face. "The least of which was failing to account for the chance I could have left those technicians loose and untied." He didn't mention Rinoa's powers, as that was classified information that none of the people around him needed to know.

"_You . . . ."_ Illarra's tone was now filled with raw anger.

"Its over," Squall responded simply. "You're finished. I'm going to look forward to when we meet face to face."

"_Not yet,"_ she answered. Then a moment later, the line went dead. Squall blinked, and cocked his head to the side, but she did not speak anymore. After a moment, squall let his hand dropped to his side, and sighed. He looked around, at all the soldiers gathered around him, along with the civilians, the journalists, and his fellow commanders, and a wry smile struck the SeeD.

"I need a drink."

* * *

SeeDs from both Gardens had swarmed the plaza mere minutes after the conflict had been resolved. Squall had been taken aside, and Quistis, who had led the SeeD force after Squall, was speaking with him. 

"So, it's over?" she asked, and he nodded, drinking from a bottle of water, the liquid splashing across his mouth in one of the most refreshing gulps he had taken in a long, long time.

"She has no handle on me anymore," Squall explained. "The threat against Garden is gone, and Ellone is safe. We've got a wall of SeeDs, Marines, and soldiers around the President and the Duke in case someone tries anything else. Zell is alive, and so is Laguna."

"Things could have been a lot worse," Quistis commented, and Squall nodded.

"Mike is up for a promotion, and I'm going to talk Cid into giving Garden medals to the Raptors who helped him with the air strike. Everyone else involved in that is needing praise. Zell, Lex, Fujin, Raijin, and Argus." Squall paused, giving a customary moment of silence to a fallen SeeD, something that had been all to common after the Battle of Centra three years ago.

"Its not completely over yet," Quistis continued. "Laguna warned us over the radio that things were very bad, and I heard reports that Kiros and Ward are taking an airship out here to meet with him privately about what he called a 'dire situation of state.' I don't know what's possibly worse, though. I heard that the Wiseman Committee was wiped out in a bombing, excepting the Director of Intelligence, Crell Varines. He's in acting command of Esthar until Laguna returns."

"We have to track down Illarra, too," Squall added, his voice projecting his determination.

"We'll find her," Quistis assured him. "No one is leaving FH. What she did was a direct attack against Garden, Dollet, and Galbadia. No one is resting until her entire operation is uprooted."

"That's the problem," Squall responded, and he tapped his ear, where the earpiece was still located. He didn't want to remove it, instead wanting to keep the device on him until he could get back to Garden where he could hand it over to the technicians personally. Besides, one never knew when Illarra was going to come back with a taunt or message, and one that might finally lead him, and the rest of the assembled militaries, down on her head.

"She hasn't contacted us, and we don't know where she is. A search could take days."

"Then we'd better get to work," Quistis continued. "Ragnarok will b landing in a few hours, and judging by what Zell was saying, things are looking pretty bad. They wouldn't say much on the radio, but it doesn't sound good."

"Great," Squall answered. He sighed and took another sip of water. "Where's Rinoa?"

"She went out looking for you after you escaped," Quistis replied. "I haven't heard from her since. You'd think she would have gotten here by now, with the whole disturbance."

Squall nodded, but didn't say anything for a moment. Finally he looked away.

"I need to see her again, after all of this," he muttered, and Quistis nodded as well. She knew what he was experiencing: in the wake of the intense emotions, he needed a lifeline to hold onto, something Quistis couldn't provide. He needed someone he loved more intimately than a close friend. Squall needed Rinoa.

"Ill see if we can find her," she promised, and moved off, leaving Squall alone. He watched her vanish, and then turned, looking off at the two Gardens in the distance. Everything was still standing, something he hadn't hoped would happen by the end of this day.

"_Finally,"_ a voice cut in, jolting Squall. _"Thought that dumb bitch would never shut up."_

"You," Squall hissed at Illarra, and she laughed.

_Yes, wonderful me," _she replied. _"Did you miss me, honey?_"

"What do you want?" Squall demanded.

"_I know something you don't know,"_ she answered in a sing-song voice, and her tone made Squall feel a cold shiver run through his body. She was far too calm . . . Did she have something new up her sleeve?

"_The thing I know is this, Squall,"_ she continued. _"I know the answer to a question you've just asked moments ago: Where, oh where, is Rinoa?"_

Squall's blood ran cold. No. She didn't . . . .

"_The answer, of course, is that she's right here, in front of me,"_ Illarra answered happily. _All tied up, kinda kinky. Complete with Odine-brand restraints, making her absolutely helpless. Simmons would love it, but he's dead, and the dead don't get hard-ons . . . That we know of, at least._

"_Things are very simple, now, Squall,"_ she continued. _"South side docks, warehouse in front of Pier Thirty-Two. I'll be there, with Rinoa. You have twenty minutes to get down here, alone. Feel free to bring your weapons, but if you don't come alone, I will cut off Rinoa's face and mail it to you. Understand?"_

Squall was momentarily afraid, but that fear vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense rage. Illarra had already threatened Ellone, but now Rinoa?

But she had given up her location, and made an even greater mistake: she had let Squall bring his weapons.

"_I'll be there,"_ Squall hissed, and he tore the earpiece out of his ear, and hurled it away. The SeeD Commander turned toward the south side of Fisherman's Horizon, his blue eyes blazing with inner fires of rage and determination.

Squall had made a promise to himself when he had rescued Rinoa from the clutches of Esthar's sealing machine. It was an oath he would never, in his lifetime, break without fighting to the very end with all of his strength. As he had clutched Rinoa tightly in his arms, Squall Leonhart had sworn he would be damned if he let Rinoa go again.

Through heaven or hell, Squall swore he would rescue Rinoa.

His hands closed tightly around his gunblade, the lethal edge of Lionheart, and the warrior ran out of the plaza, cold fury in his gaze. Things had changed, and in Illarra's arrogance, she had forgotten what would occur if she had let a lion like Squall be free.

The lion was now the hunter.

* * *

-

* * *

What? you thought Squall was going to get off that easily? No way. But never fear, people! Up to this point, Squall's just been knocking people out. Time to get Lionheart bloody. Heheheheh...let's just say that "massacre" is not going to be enough to describe the next chapter. Setting things up for a climactic confrontation!

**Shout-Out-Thingies!**

**OniRazz: **Actually, Malachi is based more off Krauser from Resident Evil 4. Complete with slashy-killy knife. And hee hee, peopel thought Lex actually died! Silly people, remember that if you don't see the character's death, his death may not have occurred!

**Psylockian Emperor:** Aha! You've stumble dupon my secret weakness! I was wondering when someone would figure it out. I can't really write very well on my own. I come up with ideas, but often I need soemthignt o base my thoughts and focus on. I take a lot of inspiration and ideas, and I build on them, brekaing them down, recombining them, and forging something new. I make new ideas out of old ones, so to speak. That's my real strength, and my biggest weakness.

Aw, you don't like Quistis not kicking ass? Wait and see, my friend, wait and see. That fight scene didn't actually include any Aikido, as Aikdo is focused on counters, directing energy, and grapples. Alucard, like Slayer,just punches things :P

Dr. Kadowaki, the traitor? Now that's an original idea. However, as I showed in the previous chapter, the traitor is distinctly male.

**DBZ Fanficiton Queen:** Oh, don't worry about Alucard. He'll be back real soon.

Yeah, Laguna went hardcore there, didn't he? Old men can kick ass! Die, Simmons, die! As to Illarra and Squall, I say nothing! NOTHING!

Ah, so that's who he is. I always figured his laid-back American voice fitted Zell best. Either him or Seifer. Hmm.

**Xephon:** I love it when people hate villians so much!

**Solid Shark:** Bing bing! We gotta winner, here! That "Think dragon, with eyebrows' was a reference to Corran's "Think Hutt, with eybrows." line. Chris, I can't believe you missed that. Shame shame.

**Kolostramin Indincranin:** Hee. Yes, I love a good cliffhanger, don't you? And Illarra won't get Lionheart through her face for a while. She will get her ass kicked repeatedly, however.

**Chris Ganale:** If I knew which song that was, it probably would kick ass. XD

**Leonhartilly:** Heh. Yes, Rinoa got captured, buit that just means Squall is going to be even more pissed off. Expect one hell of a battle next chapter.

**LittleGenius90:** I love it when people think a character died, and they return out of the blue!

**JadeAlmasy:** Well, hurry up, jeez! Squall's life is just starting to work out, and suddenly, pow! His lover gets kidnapped and he goes berserk! He just can't get away from all this hell, huh?

**Katy:** I may be evil, but nopt so evil as to have Squall kill an innocent man. Then again, maybe not.

That everyone? Awesome. Now, I have to pee. Information overload, yes.

Until next chapter!


	11. X: Sandman

_**Chapter 10: Sandman**_

"Miss Trepe," came a quiet voice, and Quistis turned at the familiar tone, adrenaline spiking at the voice. Her hand dropped to her whip at her belt as she looked at the speaker.

Leaning calmly against the wall of a building, just inside an alley near the plaza where the attempted assassination had occurred, was a familiar, bearded man with an odd tie, hat, and formal attire.

"You again," Quistis muttered at Alucard, who chuckled. He detached himself from the wall and walked out into the open, glancing up at the sun as he did so.

"I know you have questions, my dear, and I would prefer to answer them," he explained with a smile. "However, events are proceeding at a pace that makes things difficult to talk about."

"What do you mean?" Quistis asked, now more curious than alarmed.

"Commander Leonhart asked an important question a moment ago," the man continued. "Specifically, he was wondering where Sorceress Rinoa happened to be."

"You . . . Wait, how do you know Rinoa is . . . ." Quistis trailed off, and shook her head. "I really shouldn't be surprised. Okay. What do you know?"

"No time to explain, my dear," Alucard relied, and he gestured back toward the alley he had been standing in. "Suffice it to say, Rinoa is in danger and Squall is walking into a very dangerous trap. There is one way to head him off, and that is with me. Otherwise we won't catch up with him in time."

"What are you going to do?" Quistis asked, and noticed something in the alley beyond. It seemed like a swirling black portal, with tiny motes of light within.

"I've opened a gateway between here and a point ahead of Squall's current course," Alucard explained. "We have to go now if we intend to catch him and warn him of the trap."

Quistis glanced between the mysterious man, and the portal, and started toward it, before hesitating.

"Why me?" she asked, and Alucard chuckled again.

"Squall doesn't trust me completely," he replied. "But he trusts you with his life. That's what matters. We must hurry."

Quistis nodded after a moment, and she walked into the alley, stepping into the portal.

* * *

Squall's feet pounded the metal as he rushed down the relatively empty street, hand on his gunblade. His jaw was set, and his eyes were virtually blazing with raw, angry fires. The few people he did encounter got out of his way, either because of his speed or the set of his features, which warned them that being in his path was not healthy. 

Soon enough, Squall had passed the populated segments of Fisherman's Horizon and neared the south end of the city, with about ten minutes to spare. His Guardian Forces gave him the strength and speed to run quickly, and without tiring, and he was barely winded as he approached the southern docks.

Squall slowed as he came into sight of Pier Thirty-Two, and stared over the warehouse before the docks intently.

She was in there, and so was Rinoa. Squall knew the situation was dire; Illarra was likely setting a trap. Squall clenched his gunblade's handle tightly as he narrowed his eyes at the structure.

_So be it_. _You want hell? You've gotten it, Illarra._

Squall surveyed his target for a moment, and began to start forward. He didn't have a plan; he had only a few minutes until the deadline, and not enough intelligence concerning his target to come up with a plan of attack. He would just have to go in headfirst and improvise.

"Squall, wait," came a voice from behind Squall, and he froze. He turned, and saw Quistis standing behind him, and beside her . . . .

"You again," Squall muttered, and Alucard laughed.

"This is getting repetitive," he commented.

"What is it?" Squall asked, looking back at the warehouse.

"She has Rinoa, doesn't she?" Quistis asked, and Squall closed his eyes before nodding.

"She wants me to go in alone," he explained. "If I don't, Rinoa dies. I'm sorry, but I can't let you two come with me."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Alucard replied. "They have a trap set for you, and a small army inside that building. You're good Commander, but I wonder if even you can match what awaits."

"I don't care if there's an entire battalion hiding in there," Squall responded firmly. "I'll kill anything between me and her."

"Rinoa or Illarra?" Quistis asked, and he snarled quietly, like an animal.

"Both."

"In that case, we can assist you, Commander," Alucard cut in.

"Are you deaf?" Squall asked. "Did you hear what I said? I go in alone, or Rinoa dies. And she _will_ kill Rinoa if I don't do as she says."

"She'll kill Rinoa just to spite you," Quistis responded, and Squall hesitated, before nodding once more.

"Yes, she would," Squall admitted.

"They will kill you if you go in there," Alucard continued. "But I know a method by which we can get inside that will make our chances of defeating Illarra and saving Rinoa much better."

"I'm listening," Squall said after a few seconds.

* * *

She paced around the room restlessly, a slender knife twirling in her fingers as she moved around. The blade moved quickly and gracefully in her fingers, lightly and quickly, perfectly balanced and doubtlessly lethal. After a few moments, she turned her attention to the other person in the roomw ith her. 

"Surprised, aren't you?" Illarra asked.

Rinoa, seated in a chair, hands bound securely behind her back, didn't reply immediately. She was still off-guard by what she saw when Illarra's goons had dragged her into the warehouse's office.

"You look like him," Rinoa finally answered, and Illarra chuckled.

"Oh, yes," she replied. "Not by accident, I assure you." Her prisoner seemed to muse over this for a moment.

"Why are you doing this?" Rinoa demanded suddenly, and Illarra smiled, looking out the window, over the warehouse she commanded. Below, dozens of men could be seen moving around, weapons in hand or setting up preset defensive positions.

"What makes you think you would understand?" Illarra replied. "Can you understand a seething fury and hatred that's been buried inside for nearly a decade? Half my adult life has been spent in impotent rage toward that man you sleep with . . . ."

Illarra glanced at a digital clock on the wall, and looked back at Rinoa.

"Bad news," she said after a moment. "Your boyfriend has twenty seconds left. Barely any time to come in and rescue you. If he hadn't removed his transmitter, I might have at least checked with him to see where he was. Then he could have heard me start to cut."

Rinoa locked eyes with Illarra, and saw the emotions buried beneath her slight smirk. There was anger, and hatred there, and . . . envy? Not just directed at Squall, she knew, but at her, at Rinoa. What was she envious of?

However, even moreso than envy, Illarra possessed something more. There was a degree of sadism within her, Rinoa could tell, and with it an underlying sense of twisted pleasure. It took Rinoa a moment of analysis to finally figure it out. Illarra was . . .

_Insane._

There were no there words to describe the look of the person who slowly crossed the room, calmly, gracefully twirling the knife, cutting delicate patterns in the air as she looked over Rinoa. Illarra paused before her captive, and knelt down, looking the Sorceress eye-to-eye.

"I wonder if I'm compatible?" she whispered. "If I killed you, would you transfer your powers to me? Would I become the Sorceress? Would I be able to rule over mankind with the iron fist that you refuse to utilize? I know you have tremendous power within you. Such wasted potential, when you don't use it . . . ."

After a moment, Illarra straightened, and glanced at the clock. The knife stopped its graceful motions, and her smile widened.

"Five seconds," she whispered. The knife slowly cut through the air before Rinoa's face, the tip brushing her nose.

"Four."

Illarra flipped it over, examining the blade, as if deciding which grip would work best for the job at hand.

"Three."

She flipped the blade back over, apparently concluding that the underhand grip was better.

"Two."

The edge slowly moved forward, the tip coming to rest in front of Rinoa's left ear, the cold metal sending a shiver up her spine.

"One."

* * *

The wall on the north side of the warehouse _exploded._

One second, it was there, then it was not, vanishing in a firestorm of intense fury, launching shards of molten concrete and metal everywhere. Smoke and steam rose from the gap, obscuring the entrance, and a dozen of Illarra's soldiers rushed to the site of the detonation, raising rifles. They hesitated as they heard growls and raging flames beyond, and caught the distant outline of a great, horned beast, wreathed in white-hot flames.

However, the flames subsided, and silence filled the warehouse as the wall of smoke and steam continued to obscure the new entrance. The soldiers glanced at each other for a moment, and then turned their attention back to the entrance as they heard the sound of boots clomping on the pavement outside.

A new outline could be seen outside, amid the obscuring smoke, a slender, humanoid shape. The figure advanced through the obscuring mist, its steps in time with the clatter of boots, and slowly, deliberately, it extended an arm. A glowing brand emerged, held out to its side, casting blue-white light through the fog and smoke.

The tip of the sword emerged, revealing the glowing, deadly blue edge of Lionheart, followed an instant later by a small, long-haired man, jaw set firmly as he stepped into view. His movements were calm, even, and betrayed no fear, no confidence, no cocky swagger. His motions were that of a professional, the steps and bearing of a predator about to fall upon hapless prey.

Most striking to those men, however, were his eyes. They blazed with an inner fire and rage, and within those deep, blue orbs, ones that could project captivating light or caring empathy, those soldier saw nothing but true, absolute, and certain death.

Squall Leonhart swept his gaze across the warehouse, and as the soldiers before him stood frozen in fear, he looked upon each man, his expression telling them that he was the Reaper, come to harvest their souls and banish them to hell for their crimes.

Then, without any further fanfare or motion, Squall bolted forward, into the man directly in front of him, and Lionheart clove down hard. The blade chopped into his target's upper left shoulder and down through his right hip, and the man flew apart, dead before he'd even realized he was being attacked.

"_Kill him! Kill him!"_ shouted someone, and the order broke the trance that the horrified soldiers had been enmeshed within. They shouldered their rifles and opened fire at Squall.

Squall was already past them, however, dashing forward and ducking around behind a stack of crates just behind where the first man had died. The soldiers chased after him, Illarra's goons pursuing the fleeing SeeD. The first man rounded the corner, and then simply died as his head was sent flying into the air. The next soldier around the corner was tripped up as a headless corpse was hurled into his path, and as the man stumbled, a blue-white blur chopped down between his eyes.

As the soldier fell away, certainly dead, Squall snapped a hand down and grabbed the man's belt, stripping a grenade. The SeeD pulled the pin and rolled it around the corner as several more men closed in, and they cried out in surprise, followed an instant later by screams as the explosive went off at their feet.

Squall whirled around as another foe rounded the other side of the stack, leveling his rifle at the SeeD Commander, and a bolt of lightning sent the man spinning to the ground, rifle firing wildly into the air. Squall rushed over the body, chopping down another foe beyond with a single cut of Lionheart, and dove deeper into the warehouse, a small army on his tail.

* * *

"He's here!" Illarra cried, her voice seemingly filled with ecstatic joy as she turned toward the window. She watched for a moment, her free hand clenched tightly as she watched Squall slicing through her soldiers. 

"Yes, Squall, show it to me," she whispered, her tone pleading, almost . . . _aroused._ "Show the world your gift. The gift we both share." She turned back toward Rinoa, a happy smile on her face, the kind of thing a schoolgirl wore when she had been asked out on a date by a handsome boy.

Rinoa shuddered. There was no question about it: Illarra was a total lunatic.

There was a flash of light beyond, and debris flew past the window. Illarra glanced back, laughing.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked. "How wonderfully he kills. So fluid, so deadly, so _perfect_. He truly is his mother's son."

"What?" Rinoa asked, confused, and Illarra shrugged. She turned back toward her captive, arms crossed, eyes up thoughtfully as she scratched her chin.

"I wonder if I can stand up against him," she asked herself. Then, Illarra close dher eyes and snickered. "Of course I can. If anyone can match your boyfriend, its me. Me or Seifer. Its too bad about him, too. He's going to die so soon. Really, quite the pity. Then, it'll just be the two of us, plus a few others, who can really be the best at the art of war. No one else would be bale to match us. No SeeD, so soldier, not even those freaks my father is cooking up."

Rinoa said nothing, listening intently to Illarra's ramblings. She had no idea what the insane woman was talking about, but what she was speaking of would be a goldmine to SeeD Intelligence.

"But, I've spoken too much," she suddenly stated, and looked at Rinoa. As she did so, a body slammed into the glass behind Illarra. The bloodied soldier slid to the floor outside, and Illarra gave him a slight glance, before turning back to her captive.

"I can't wait until he gets up here," she continued with a slight, girlish giggle. "I need to lay out the welcome mat."

* * *

Some thoughtful, or perhaps idiotic, soul had left open a box of C7 explosive charges, complete with detonators. Squall had only had time to utilize one of the explosives to beat off a wave of troops directly behind him, and then had managed to grab a pair of grenades off another corpse. He rushed between a two stacks of crates, both explosives in hand. He popped the pins and rolled them out ahead of himself. 

The small explosives rolled beyond the crates, at the feet of two soldiers waiting in ambush, and exploded, shredding both men instantly, and even as the reverberations were resounding across the warehouse, Squall was leaping out between the two stacks, gunblade leading, and driving through the chest of another soldier rushing up to the scene of Squall's latest kills. The SeeD bore the enemy soldier down beneath him and leapt off his body, tearing the gunblade out savagely and rushing around another stack of crates. Two men pursued closely, knowing that Squall was running into a dead end against the warehouse's east wall.

They came around the corner, to find themselves facing a wall. However, the SeeD Commander was not visible.

The impact of boots on the floor right behind them told the two men that Squall had literally run up the wall, kicking off it and dropping behind his pursuers. They silently congratulated his maneuver as he cleaved off their heads in an instant, and the SeeD spun around. A third man came around the corner, and gaped in shock as Squall's blade dove into his heart, and the SeeD spun around the man, ripping his weapon free.

Squall rushed back out into cover, and the ground behind him exploded as some threw a grenade at him. The SeeD rushed forward, bullets chasing him as someone fired a heavy machinegun from a walkway overhead. He rushed between two crates, chopping the weapon arm off a soldier hiding within that space, and spinning around to lop off his head as he passed. As the corpse fell, a lightning bolt erupted from the SeeD's hand and impaled another pursuing enemy soldier, hurling him away.

Squall reversed momentum, and exploded back out the between the crates, leaping after the flying body in a whirling spin that sliced through two more enemy soldiers. He threw himself forward into a blind roll as the machinegun up top tracked him, and several more men opened fire from multiple directions. He came out of the roll, ice lancing out and blasting into another enemy soldier, and dove behind yet another stack of crates.

The enemy, brave or stupid, chased after Squall again, coming around the corner with rifles raised. Six men came after the SeeD, weapons ready as they swept the are beyond, another dead end between them and the wall. They stopped as they saw no SeeD, but instead simply his gunblade, driven down into the floor.

One daring man stepped forward, reaching for Lionheart. Behind him, behind the entire formation, there was movement, and a soldier loosed a gurgling cry as Squall ran past, slitting his throat with his knife. The SeeD stabbed the blade into the back of the next man's neck, up into his brain stem, and leapt upon a third enemy as the man whirled. Squall flipped the blade over in his hand and stabbed it up into the soldier's eye, driving it into his brain, and grabbed the man's rifle as his fingers slackened around it.

Squall raised the weapon one-handed, and fired three bursts, taking down the other three soldiers in a heartbeat. He dropped the rifle, ran forward, and grabbed his gunblade.

* * *

The men up on one of walkways above were frantically calling over the radio, trying to relay reports of the SeeD's position, but he kept appearing and disappearing at random, it seemed. One instant, he was in one end of the warehouse, slitting someone's throat, and a moment later he was somewhere else, lopping off a head. Twenty men were dead, and the count was quickly rising. Even the machine gunners were having a difficult time keeping track of Squall's position, laying constant fire seemingly everywhere at once. The other soldiers on the walkway were just as badly off. 

They didn't realize how badly their position had become until someone else dropped onto the walkway without warning.

"The odds are unfair, wouldn't you say?" Alucard said with a smile as he stood next to one of the two machine gunners on this platform. The man spun, shocked to see the intruder, and then his head simply _evaporated_ as Alucard's fist slammed through the man's skull. Other soldiers on the platform spun to see the mysterious new figure, and began to bring their weapons to bear. In response, Alucard kicked the corpse across the walkway, the grisly missile landing atop them and tying up several of the soldiers.

Then, he was in their midst, as if the space between his old position and new one had simply not existed. Two punches lashed out in opposite directions, and men were launched away, the points where they had been struck reduced to liquid matter. Alucard spun around into a graceful, elegant circle kick, and another man's head was torn off as he came around. One of the troops drew a knife and dove forward, stabbing at the man's chest. With casual ease, Alucard slapped the man's hand away, and the same hand came around to grab the man's neck. With a shrug, Alucard twisted, and the soldier's neck shattered.

The second soldier wielding a machinegun brought his weapon to bear, and opened fire on Alucard, sheets of hot metal sweeping out at the intruder. Alucard turned to face the bullets, and his body transformed into a series of blurs as he moved forward. It took the soldier about five seconds of continuous fire to come to the impossible conclusion that Alucard was _dancing_ around the bullets.

By the time he came to this conclusion, Alucard stood directly before the soldier, and, without a word or gesture, jabbed a fist into the man's throat. He flew back twenty feet, dead before he hit the catwalk, his neck a now a liquid.

The men on the walkway opposite where Alucard was striking did not miss his actions, but even as they were acting to assist their comrades, another new intruder stepped into the battle.

Her slender hands shattered the neck of one of the machine gunners, and before the rest of the soldiers knew it, Quistis had lifted the machinegun and swept it across the narrow walkway. With nowhere to go, and no warning, eight men were torn to ribbons as Quistis emptied the machinegun over the pathway.

After the last bullet-riddled soldier had fallen to the catwalk, Quistis dropped the weapon to the floor and leapt up into the rafters, getting out of sight, just in case.

Quistis crouched among the rafters, watching Squall lay waste to the men below, and felt a pang of sympathy for the doomed men. She glanced away, and saw Alucard crouched amid the rafters as well, watching the massacre below with detached amusement. He noticed she was looking his way, and sent her a simple wave. After a moment, Quistis waved back, and glanced to the catwalk, and the mangled corpses that remained from his assault.

_Who the hell is this guy?_

* * *

The soldier bent over, his expression shocked, as Squall callously tore the gunblade from his gut and stepped past his dying body. He advanced across the room, a dozen surviving men between himself and the stairway leading up toward the office. They leveled trembling rifles at the SeeD Commander as he walked toward them, but their eyes were as much on the carnage beyond as they were on Squall himself. 

Thirty-eight men. Squall Leonhart had cleaved through thirty-eight men, and, excepting the blood staining his clothes, there were no marks on his body whatsoever. The soldiers Illarra had taken to defend her base had not even _scratched_ Squall.

One of the men cried out in terror, and gunfire erupted from their rifles. Squall advanced into the wall of bullets, and shockingly, every round bounced off an electric blue-shield of light that appeared before him.

"Guardian Force!" someone shouted in horror, but by then, it was too late. Rain began to pour in the room around the soldiers, from seemingly nowhere, followed by the brilliant crack of lightning as it struck the floor before Squall. An instant later, from that impact point, a whirling yellow-white entity emerged, a massive serpentine bird, with electricity as its feathers. The great Guardian Force Queztocotl, the deity of lightning, spread its wings, and cast its eyeless gaze over the huddled, terrified men befor eit.

A river of light erupted from within the Guardian Force's wings, a stream of pure electricity, that swept over the cowering men before Squall. The crackling of the lightning drowned out their agonized, horrified screams, and when the light faded and Queztocotl disappeared, no survivors remained in the room.

Squall advanced past the dead bodies, and up the steps toward the office. The door was shut and locked, but Squall solved that with a single kick that blew the door open. There was one man in the room, standing behind Rinoa, holding her before him as a shield. It was the same dark-skinned, bald man who had been his contact all day long. He watched Squall, his body trembling, a pistol leveled at the side of Rino's head.

"Get back!" the man screamed. Squall stared at him, at the same calm man who had handed him the tools Illarra had used to terrorize Fisherman's Horizion and torture Squall.

"Where is she?" Squall demanded.

'I said stay back!" the man shouted. Squall glanced to Rinoa, who closed her eyes.

_Do it._

Squall had barely heard her telepathic acknowledgement, when his gunblade hurtled forward, over Rinoa's shoulder, through the man's hand, and cleaved his head in half. The terrorist fell back, releasing Rinoa.

She stumbled forward, and Squall rushed ahead, catching her in his arms, and pulling her close. In an instant, the vicious, lethal Squall Leonhart who had paved a path of corpses was gone, replaced by a man who was tightly hugging Rinoa to his body. He shoulders shook slightly, and only once, as he let out a single sob of relief.

"Rinoa," he whispered. "You're safe. Thank Hyne . . . ." His hands found her bindings, and he quickly removed them, freeing Rinoa's hands.

"I knew you'd come after me," she whispered into his ear as she pulled him close. "But . . . Squall, its not over."

"I know," Squall replied. "But you're safe now. We can get out of here. Illarra isn't here, but we can find her some other day. I'm just glad you're safe."

"But, Squall," Rinoa said, hesitantly. "She's . . . she's here."

"Where?" Squall asked, pulling back a little bit.

"Right here," came a voice behind Squall, and he stiffened. One hand dropped to his knife at his belt, and Squall slowly turned, looking behind him.

Shielded in the spot between the office door and the wall, stood Illarra. She had been waiting for him the whole time.

"Rinoa, get out of here," Squall whispered, and released Rinoa. He and Illarra glared at one another, finally having come face to face, and the first thing that struck Squall was their physical similarities.

She was his same height, and her hair dropped past her chin, the same length and color as Squall's own. Her eyes were the same shade of blue, with only faint white highlights to show they had been surgically altered. Her face was slender, like his, her nose was only slightly smaller and more delicate, and running across her face was a scar that mirrored Squall's own. It didn't look like it had been inflicted in combat; the smooth edges of the scar indicated it had been inflicted ritually. Her clothes were virtually a match for Squall's attire, right down to the black jacket, boots, pants, and gloves, as well as the white shirt. A glance at her belt showed she even wore a knife on her right waist . . .exactly like Squall.

For all intents and purposes, Illarra seemed to have literally fashioned herself as Squall's exact female twin. Aside from her more feminine face and obviously feminine traits beneath her shirt, she was a precise copy of Squall.

Rinoa stepped back, out of the way of the battle, and Illarra stepped aside, letting her move out of the door. Rinoa hesitated, and at a nod from Squall, she moved past the terrorist and outside, leaving the two virtually identical warriors facing one another.

"Why?" Squall breathed as he looked over her, and she chuckled.

"Why not?" she replied. "Considering our history, I suppose modeling myself after you isn't much of a surprise."

"What are you talking about?" Squall demanded, and watched warily as she slowly drew a weapon from her left waist, a long, slender blade of transparent purple crystal, featuring a black ebony handle, and an etching of a crouched dragon on the sides, directly over what looked like . . . The gun aspect of a revolver.

"A gunblade," Squall hissed, and she nodded, slowly drawing a knife from her right waist, and laying the blade back across her left forearm.

"I've based myself off you," she replied quietly. "Strangely enough, we both adopted the gunblade as our weapons of choice. Odd, hm? Or maybe not, considering who and what we both are."

"Stop being cryptic," Squall demanded, finally backing away and grabbing his fallen gunblade. "Get to answering my questions."

"Fine, then," she said, sighing. "Ruin my fun. I deliberately designed myself after you for one reason: I absolutely, completely _loathe_ you, Squall Leonhart. You are what I should have been. You stole the destiny I rightfully should have had. Fate gave you everything, and left me with nothing but hatred and emptiness. You ruined my life Squall . . . Before you were even _born._"

Squall didn't respond, confused by what his opponent was saying, and trying to comprehend her intent.

"Thus, I'm going to take your life," she continued. "I'll ruin you, and totally, absolutely destroy your entire existence. Once that is done, and I've wiped every aspect of you off the face of this planet, I'll take my rightful place. The place you denied me."

"I don't understand," Squall muttered, shaking his head, and Illarra's eyes flew open, in disbelief or rage, Squall didn't know.

"_Don't mock me!"_ she snarled, and in an instant, she had crossed the distance between them, her gunblade lashing out hard. Squall's weapon dove into its path, deflecting the strike with unerring precision, and she leapt back, coming in with a low stab.

Squall turned the stab out wide with a deft maneuver of his gunblade, and his left fist shot forward, crashing into her forehead. Her skull was rocked back, but in that instant, Illarra's left hand snapped up, slashing across the top of Squall's wrist. Blood flew, and he retracted his hand as she pressed in, stabbing hard at Squall's heart.

Squall spun away desperately, the knife scratching along Squall's side, and he came around with a cleaving slash aimed at Illarra' neck. She spun as well, bringing her gunblade up to catch the cleave. Her knife jabbed ahead again at Squall, this time arcing toward his throat, and the SeeD had to lean back to avoid getting stabbed in the neck. Illarra's gunblade chopped across, and Squall parried again, backing away across the room.

She pursued, gunblade diving low for Squall's gut, which he deftly deflected, and the spinning around into a knife slash at Squall's throat, which he once again threw his neck back to evade. She came ahead in two quick double stabs at Squall's chest, which he deflected and dodged, and then hopped over a low spinning cut at his knees. Illarra rose up in a stab with her knife at Squall's chest, and he slapped a hand over her wrist catching it.

Illarra dropped the knife suddenly, and spun her hand around Squall's, grabbing him by the front of his bloodstained shirt. Her maddened expression shifted to a smile of wild glee, and she spun, lifting squall up and slamming him into the floor behind her with one arm. The SeeD hit hard enough to actually bounce up off the floor, and Illarra wasted no time lashing out with a boot into Squall's back, launching him across the room to slam hard into the wall, upside down. She rushed across the room, scooping up her fallen knife and both weapons dove for the SeeD's chest.

Lionheart lanced up, parrying the sword, while Squall's other hand caught her stabbing dagger hand. Still upside down, and before falling to the floor, Squall coiled both his legs and snapped them forward, slamming them into Illarra's chest and face. She was launched back across the room, slamming into the glass windows and shattering right through them.

Squall fell forward off the wall, and ran toward the window. He leapt out the window in pursuit of Illarra, dropping down toward the floor below, where she was sprawled, and just then starting to get up. Squall fell toward her, Lionheart raised, and she looked up in time to see him fall upon her, and with just the instant she needed to snap her sword up and catch Squall's descending blade. Illarra's knees buckled under the impact, and she dropped into a crouch.

Squall snapped a foot between the two blades, and launched her backward several feet. Illarra dropped into a backflip and landed on her feet in time to catch Squall's incoming blade. She turned the cleave out wide, and countered with a knife jab at his ribs. Squall hopped back and, thinking quickly, drew one of his own knives from his belt. He knew he had to even this confrontation; Illarra's second weapon was giving her way too much of an edge in this battle.

She nodded in agreement with Squall's choice, and came forward din a rush. Gunblade and knife emt in rapid succession, scraping and twisting in the brief exchange. Squall pushed forward aggressively, and Illarra fell back, giving him ground. They hopped over corpses and danced around pools of blood, Squall's grisly handiwork.

"A masterpiece!" she suddenly commented as they moved across the floor. "How perfect, isn't it, Squall?" She shot ahead in a rush, stabbing ahead with her blades, and he back away, deflecting gunblade and knife with deft parries of his own two weapons.

"I told your girlfriend, and I'll tell you, you certainly are your mother's son!"

"My mother?" Squall exclaimed, and in his confusion, she advanced, taking the initiative in the fight and forcing Squall into a blocking routine. "What do you know about her?"

"Everything, Squall!" she answered, striking out in a low cut at his knees. Squall snapped his gunblade down to parry her own weapon, and shot ahead with a kick that forced her back onto her heels, giving Squall the initiative, which he took with an aggressive slash at her throat. Illarra parried with her knife and countered, which he parried quickly and came right back in with another counter.

"I know who you are, I know who your mother is! I know everything that matters!" She backed away a step, and then leapt back, up onto a nearby stack of crates with a single bound. Squall, refusing to give her a moment's rest, pursued. He landed on top of the crates with a deft parry and deflection, countering her attacks with quick strokes of his own, quickly retaking the upper hand.

"I know why you wonder at night," she hissed, knowingly. His eyes widened, and Illarra knew she had hit the mark. "I know why you wonder from time to time. You feel it, don't you? The urge to fight. The urge to complete, to prove you are the better. The urge to win, Squall! That's what you feel! it's a part of you, and you can't deny it! Its in your blood!"

She caught his rushing slashes with both weapons and stopped them cold. They stood, eyes barely inches apart, and she laughed in understanding.

"The same blood, squall," she whispered. "We both share it. We share his blood! The Chimera's blood, Squall!"

Squall's eyes widened in shock, and he shoved back against her weapons.

_The Chimera? Hyne . . . The genes of the Chimera? _

_Centra's ultimate super-soldier?_

"You are an expert fighter, squall, make no mistake about it," she continued quietly, smiling darkly. "You are a head above any other fighter. You can match men three times your age, who have seen a hundred times the combat you have, because you bear his genes! You possess the blood of the Chimera. And so do I. That's why we look alike, isn't it? His genes are dominant. We retain his traits, and the greatest of these are the genes that make us into the perfect soldiers. We are warriors incarnate, down to our very genomes."

Squall shook his head after a moment, not in denial, but in disbelief at the possibility.

"You can't deny it," she whispered. Then, without warning, Illarra shot forward, across the crates, blades thrusting at Squall. He caught them quickly, knocking them out wide, and his head shot forward, smacking into her forehead. Illarra fell back, and the stack of crates shuddered.

"Unstable," Squall muttered, and Illarra managed a laugh.

"Yes," she replied, and gestured at her feet. A bolt of magic shot down into the crates, and the entire stack shuddered. There was an explosion at the base of the boxes, and the crates began to topple without warning. The stack began to fall apart, and both fighters lost their footing.

Squall fell to the floor hard, crates raining down around him, and looked up in time to see a shadow rapidly descending toward him. Illarra fell, eyes wide in manic glee, gunblade raised for a finishing chop into Squall's face.

Lionheart shot up, catching the blade as it descended, and his feet rose, catching Illarra across the stoach and rolling her momentum off his body. She flew across the warehouse, rolling up onto her feet as Squall closed the distance. Both gunblades met on a clash of flashing crystalline energy, and Squall ducked low, ramming his shoulder into Illarra's stomach, sending her reeling backward. He whipped around into a high kick that connected with her chin, lifting his foe up into the air, and squall planted a palm to Illarra's stomach. Lightning coursed down his arm, into her stomach, and exploded, launching her across the room. She crashed through a stack of crates without slowing down, and Squall winced as he heard and felt a shuddering impact against the far wall of the warehouse. He ran through the collapsed crate stack, and quickly came to a spot where the metal wall of the warehouse had been dented outward.

Illarra lay on the floor, weapons strewn across the floor. She started to rise weakly, her eyes glazed over, and squall rushed forward, kicking her in the gut and lifting her into the air. She fell away, and Squall grabbed her by her throat as she fell. Without hesitation, he slammed her into the floor again, and kicked her against the wall. She let out a pained groan.

Slowly, Squall crouched down, grabbed her by her hair, and lifted her head up. Illarra's eyes were puffy and glazed even worse than before, and, without any remorse or pity, Squall smashed the butt of his gunblade into her temple, blasting the woman from the realm of the conscious.

"I'm not like you," he muttered to himself. He would not finish a downed opponent like this. Not like she would. Grabbing her by the front of her shirt, Squall dragged toe woman back out into the open warehouse floor.

Quistis, Rinoa, and Alucard stood out there, waiting for him. Squall looked to each of them, and then lifted his foe up by her shirt and tossed her at Alucard's feet.

"Hope there's enough left to question," he muttered, and then, exhaustion seemed to sweep across his features. He stumbled forward, and Rinoa rushed up to Squall, catching him in her arms.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he laughed.

"Fine as I can be after today," Squall muttered. "Let's go home."

* * *

-

* * *

Holy crap. That one came out fast. Chapter written to the tunes of both the Guilty Gear XXsoundtrack, and the Metallica song in the title. Seriously, "Sandman" is, without question, the perfect song for the massacre in this chapter. 

This one was a blast to write. Illarra has been beaten (for now . . . heeheeheee . . . .) and a whole new plot thread of unbelievable signifigance has been reavealed. Squall's day has ended, but its not the end of his troubles for a long time. And next chapter, we finally get to see a lot more of Irvine and Selphie's story!

**Shout-Outs of Spiffiness!**

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Malachi...heehee. Trust me, he's actaully even more dangerous than the fight with Zell showed. if it wasn't for Lex, Zell would have been killed. Suffice it to say, that won't be the last time Malachi and Zell mix it up.

Illarra . . . well, as Rinoa discovered, is bonkers. She doesn;t play precisely by our rules, so she does what she wants, regardless of consequence. She's primarily driven by hate toward Squall and her own insanity. And,a s I showed, she is just as capable a fighter as Squall, due to, well, the story's title.Who is the Chimera? You may be surprised. And no, its not Laguna, or Raine. Not precisely. . ..

As for Simmons, that sick bastard is dead. He ain't coming back, ever. Bye-bye.

This shout out sponsoered by Captain Stantan, Lord of the Chainsaw Parakeets.

**Endileye:** Firefly rules, man. I loved that show.

**LittleGenius90:** Seifer is currently stuck in the bowels of Iceblood Prison, being a complete badass and running his own home shopping and 24-hour news network, as well as scouting out potential sites for a new chain ofhotels. He's a busy man, don't bother him.

**Psylockian Emperor:** Hee. you must not have read theprevious chapter yet. Lex lives! And there will be more dialogue. With the defeat of Illarra, things are going to, marginally, slow down.

Well, Zell didn't kick Malachi's ass, but Lex certainly did XD

I didjn't notice that about Xu, but now that you mention it, it does seem interesting. i just wrote her as I naturally felt she would. Vicious and profssional in combat, but ouside of combat, thoughtful.

The vapors coming off Serra are not from any sort of possession, so to speak. Serra is a seperate group ofentities on her own, and not an extension or possession of any individual. And yes, you read that right. "Group of entities." Now, I'm going to go hide from the stones launched by waves of angry readers demanding more than that tiny morsel I just gave up. Suffice it to say, Serra is probably one of the biggest plot twists in this story.

**Chris Ganale:** That part where Corran was interrogating that Jedi woman person, andhe told Luke to stand over to the side. "Think Hutt. With eyebrows." Its in there. Go check that scene out again, its funny as hell.

Aha! I figured it was either that theme or the one where the clone troopers were marching into the temple.

**Katy:** Squall didnt just kick ass . . . he beat it DBZ style!

**JadeAlmasy:** Yes. Biggest aspect of shout-outs is that you can use them to communicate with your readers in direct response to reviews, and in turn, toss out morsels of story. For example, did you know that a Chimera is part serpent and part lion? Look back at the design of Illarra's gunblade . . . .

Seifer won't be around for a little bit. It'll be a few chapters before he returns. I wasn't intending to showcase his bit for a while, but you guys were so insistent on seeing him, heh . . . .

**Solid Shark:** Oh, yes, she did XD

**OniRazz:** I read through the story for MGS3, so I could properly do my Metal Gear novelization (hopefully it'll be finished by the end of the summer, but if not, it can wait) which is likely where i got the idea for the Wisemen's Committee from.

**Kimahrigirl**: I actually got really excited with each POV change in that part. I typed faster and faster as the story progressed, and I think it was a great way of showcasing the parallel stories of Zell and Squall's struggles.

And you didn't need patience for this chapter did you? My fingers are burning right now! They burn with the great passion of great writing!

**Karaoke Risa:** Yes. he was very pissed. Very, very pissed. Like, uber pissed. Sucks to be those goons, doesn't it?

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Sadly, Illarra didn't die. She just got her ass kicked really badly.

The Malachi/Zell battle was based off the knife fight in resident Evil 4 between Leon and Krauser, and one of the most intense moments was when Krauser drops onto Leon and starts struggling to stab him in the throat with the blade. You gotta hit the buttons fast as they appear, you Krauser wins, and, well, you have to start all over. I tired to recapture that moment.

Well, we think alike, huh? Yeah, Squall's breakdown and crying with relief was an emotional moment, followed by his raw rage at Illarra.

That everyone? Awesome. Bedtime for Peptuck; he's tired, and its late right now.

Until next chapter!


	12. XI: Audience

_**Chapter 11: Audience**_

The man ahead screamed and raised his sword, but then his face simply exploded. Irvine barreled through the falling corpse, and toward the entrance to the old fortress. Getting there had proved a hassle, as actually getting down the side of the cliff needed to get inside the structure was close to impossible, with the enemy chasing after them. Selphie, Irvine, and Victor had managed to fight their way down the cliff to a point which was level enough that they could slide most of the way to the lower elevation. From there, it had been a mad dash to the fortress's entrance.

The path to the entrance was open, with only a few of the White Robes, as Selphie had taken to calling them, in the way. Between the three SeeDs, they had cleared the way swiftly, and rushed toward the gaping doorway of the Fortresses' entrance. Moments after Irvine felled the last White Robe in their path, the trio burst through the entrance, entering blessed silence, lacking the presence of screaming, insane white-robed madmen. The trio whirled toward the entrance, expecting their foes to follow. They raise hands and weapon, magic and firepower ready to lance out and cut down their foes.

Nothing approached. For the third time during their trek and the mad chase, the enemy had let up on them, and was not following.

"Thank Hyne," Selphie whispered after nearly a minute of waiting.

"What do you want to bet those things are scared of this fortress, too?" Victor mused as he looked down at his leg wound.

"No bet," Irvine replied. "Better question is where they keep coming from. I swear, we had to have killed a hundred of those guys, and they just kept coming . . . ." He turned and looked down the hallway they stood within, a long, narrow entrance designed for defense of the structure. Twin portculli were raised, one at either end, and the other opened into an inner courtyard.

"Let's take a look around," Irvine quickly suggested. "I don't want to get cornered again."

Irvine took point, leading them toward the open region beyond. They stepped back out into the slightly colder air of open Trabia, and into a ruined, ancient courtyard. Just ahead was what looked like the castle's main keep, a large, damaged structure marked by numerous towers, cracks, large amounts of snow covering everything, and a single open passageway leading deeper into the main structure. After a moment of surveying the barren, empty courtyard, devoid of anything save broken stone and ice, Irvine moved forward, into the passageway.

They stepped back within the sheltered stone arches of the fortress's interior, and the first thing that struck Irvine, Selphie, and Victor was flickering light down the passage, doubtless from torches.

The castle was inhabited.

"Stay alert," Irvine warned needlessly, as both Selphie and Victor were prepared, weapons ready. They advanced down the hallway, alert and ready for any threats. They stepped past the first pair of torches, set into mounts along the walls, and noted the fresh scent they released. They were doubtlessly new, which meant whoever lived here was, until recently, still here.

They passed several old wooden doors, barred and locked. The group tried them, and did find them secured. None of them risked opening any of the doors forcibly; they didn't want to raise the ire of whoever lived in this place. Irvine led them further down the passage, until they found another door, a great pair of massive double doors. The sharpshooter tried them, and found the unlocked. Slowly, hesitantly, he pushed them open, rifle raised. The others steeled themselves, prepared for any attack.

None came, and the group was surprised as light flooded out of the chamber beyond. The doors parted, revealing a massive chamber, lined by numerous doors, and filled with rich carpeting of a strange mix of purples and greens. Huge, elegant tapestries lined the

Walls, and massive torches flared up between the space of the tapestries, filling the chamber with the bright illumination the group had noted. A gargantuan chandelier hung from the top of the high, vaulting ceiling. A wide balcony ringed the entire chamber, and at the far end was a great archway and a double staircase sweeping up to the second floor.

The group stepped out into the vast, elegant and beautiful chamber, awed by the surreal environment they had been thrust into. They spent many long moments staring and the luxuriant architecture and masonry surrounding them.

_Clap, clap, clap._

A sound struck them in the silence: a single pair of hands applauding. They spun in the direction of the sound, and hesitated when they saw the figure making the noise as she stood atop the balcony, smiling warmly at the ragged group in the center of the chamber.

"Welcome," she called. She wore a long, elegant dress of purple and green, along with a glittering necklace heavy with amethysts and emeralds. Her hair, long brown hair pulled into a thick braid, was bound by numerous ribbons and strings of purple and green as well. Her face was beautiful, yet at the same time distant, and to a perceptive man like Irvine, there was something sinister about her. Her eyes, he noted, were a dark, almost ashen gray, and there was something . . . _off _about them.

"Welcome to my castle," she continued, holding her hands out wide. "I heard rumor of intruders within my realm, and I suspect the trials you endured to reach my sanctum. You may rest, for this place is as safe a location as you can find in this most dangerous region of Trabia."

"Thanks," Selphie answered. "We were kind of hoping for a break after everything."

"But of course," the woman continued. "I know what you had to go through in my forest."

"Your forest?" Victor echoed, and the woman nodded, a strange, high-pitched laughter sounding from her.

"My forest is my domain, and none may walk there without my permission, or they suffer the wrath of my guardians."

"And whose forest is that?" Irvine asked suddenly. "Whose castle have we entered?"

"The forest and castle both belong to the Anderson family," she replied, and pressed a hand to her chest. "I am its last surviving heir. Veronica Anderson."

"Anderson," Selphie whispered, brow furrowed in thought. She looked away for a moment, and then turned back, recognition in her eyes. "I remember that name!" She then paused, eyes widening even further.

"What is it?" Irvine asked, and Veronica chuckled.

"You are SeeDs," she stated. "And if your friend is as learned as I think she is, she may have remembered one of the dark secrets about the Anderson family. We were Trabian royalty, after all. But our power came from a very specific source, and one that I carry with me."

"Sorcery," Selphie declared, and Veronica laughed.

"Yes." Her shoulders shook as her chuckling spread throughout the room.

"Another damn Sorceress?" Irvine growled. "Great, just great. And I thought there wouldn't be any cackling witch in this story."

"Witch?" Veronica muttered, her expressions suddenly shifting to angry. "Witch?" She extended her arms out wide.

"Bad choice of words," Victor commented. And instant later, Irvine suddenly started floating in the air, held within a telekinetic grip by Veronica. A moment later, Selphie and Victor started floating as well.

"You have no idea of the power a Sorceress wields," she snarled, and it was Irvine's turn to laugh.

"Power, huh?" he asked. He raised his rifle, finding, to his satisfaction, that Veronica was not able to control their limbs. He reached into his coat quickly and grabbed a grenade shell, and slid it into his rifle.

"You're just a scrub," Irvine muttered. "Nothing compared to what we've taken on!"

"An old, washed up, withered Sorceress," Veronica replied, apparently not noticing Irvine's movements, despite their obviousness. "Edea was weak, hiding behind her armies. I need no minions, though I find them useful when I need to-"

The balcony at her feet exploded as Irvine's shell smashed into the masonry. Stone splinters were hurled across the room, and Veronica was launched backwards by the explosion. The trio of SeeD dropped to the floor, Victor stumbling on his injured leg. Selphie helped him to his feet as Irvine loaded another grenade round into his rifle.

"Let's get out of here before she recovers," Irvine suggested immediately, as chunks of stone rained down around the group. "If these forests do belong to her, then I think she-"

"_Kill them!"_ Veronica's sudden order sounded, and instantly, there came screams and shouts from beyond the doors surrounding the chamber. The group spun around, back to back, in time to see the doors fly open, and out of them streamed dozens of the men in white, weapons in hand, and screaming for death and violence.

"Hynedammit!" Victor shouted. "Thought we'd left this bullshit behind!" Irvine pointed his rifle at a thick concentration and fired, a grenade blasting apart a dozen of the enemy. Victor cursed as he tried to cast a spell, but found his magic still weakened by whatever strange effect was filling the air around them. Selphie experienced the same difficulty, and the enemy swept in immediately, in overwhelming numbers.

Irvine looked at the foes closing in around them, and then turned his head toward Selphie. She glanced at him at the same moment, and fear filled her eyes, and Irvine knew his own sudden apprehension was also being read by her as well. On an impulse, he reached over, and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it tightly, understanding then and there that they were clearly overwhelmed. Then, without hesitating, they whirled back to face the enemy, determined to put up a lethal and vicious final battle against Veronica's insane, white-robed minions.

However, the final, last stand didn't occur. The screaming men closed in, weapons raised, when a force of about twenty of them on the west side of the room suddenly screamed and ignited, bursting into flames. They cried out in pain and terror, turned and slapping themselves, running away from one of the doorways as it flew open. Regardless of how they reacted, every one of the White Robes standing near that doorway fell apart into ash within moments, and the entirety of the enemy suddenly shifted their attention to that entrance.

"Hurry!" shouted the person standing there. "While they're still afraid!"

Serra waved frantically for the trio to come toward her, and without hesitation, Irvine, Selphie, and Victor burst across the room into the opening she had made for the group.

"Its her!" shouted Veronica suddenly. "Its _her!_ Kill them! Kill them now, before they escape!"

The White Robes thundered responses and rushed blindly after the escaping group of SeeD, hurling axes, spears, and swords at them. Irvine cried out in pain as a spear sliced past his shoulder, and Victor let out a louder yell as a sword slashed deeply into his other leg, cutting open a new, nasty wound. Selphie spun and grabbed the wounded SeeD, lifting him up and tossing him through the doorway, and followed after him, Irvine diving in at the very last moment. Serra slammed the door shut behind him, and there were pained screams beyond as several more of the White Robes caught aflame, running too close to Serra's position.

"We have to go!" Serra said quickly, running forward and grabbing Victor, lifting him up with surprising strength for such a slender girl. "They'll follow! Veronica isn't afraid of me like the men in white are!"

The others quickly followed after Serra as she ran down the hallway.

* * *

"Yee-haw!" Zell crowed standing up in his seat. "He did it!" 

"Squall stopped them?" Ellone asked hopefully, and the brawler nodded.

"Squall killed those bastards and caught that bitch behind the whole thing," Zell explained, a grin plastered across his face. "Its all over! We won!"

Ellone seemed to melt back into her seat, and started to laugh with released tension.

"I was so worried about him," she said quietly. " I knew we had gotten through to him from the transmissions in the plaza, but I was still afraid . . . ."

"From what I'm hearing," Zell continued, pressing the earpiece of the radio headset closer to his head, "it sounds like Squall actually went after them in their base of operations. SeeD teams are on-site, but they say things are . . . well, pretty messy."

"Is Squall okay?" Ellone asked, and Zell nodded.

"Yeah, minor injuries, nothing much," Zell replied. "He took down this Illarra bitch single-handedly, and most of the rest of the terrorists by himself, too. Sucks to be them, man. I would _not_ want to be on the wrong side of Squall when he gets pissed off."

"What happened to him?" Ellone asked, concerned for a moment.

"That damn bitch kidnapped Rinoa," Zell replied, surprising Ellone. "Yeah, I know. Didn't even make any demands, except for him to come running to her base so she could take Squall on, I think. Sounds completely loco, huh?"

"Yeah," Ellone answered. "Wow. I can't imagine him ever getting really angry. And threatening me and Rinoa . . . Did he let her live?"

"Yeah," Zell responded, a bit shocked himself. "Took her alive, though not without seriously roughing her up, I'm guessing. Don't know why. In that situation, someone I cared about getting hurt like that, man, I wouldn't be able to stop myself! Zell Dincht would have to choke a bitch!"

That last part was a joke, delivered with an appropriately silly expression, and Ellone managed a laugh at her friend's antics. Zell himself grinned and looked away, glad he could get a l bit of mirth from his old orphanage comrade. She had been through a lot today, and Zell knew she had to be made of some stern stuff to be laughing so shortly after having her life being threatened.

"Zell," Ellone added a few moments later. The brawler glanced back to where she was sitting, and noticed her watching him intently. "I . . . I just want to thank you, for what you did."

"Me?" Zell echoed. "Oh, it was all your dad's idea, actually. But I did help everyone out. When I heard you were being held by that sicko Simmons, I swear, it was either me or Laguna who would take him out. Laguna beat me to it, though."

"And that's it, Zell," Ellone continued quietly. "You were going to risk everything to save me. I knew that you had survived the train attack, and would be coming for me. It gave me a lot of strength, even when they were ready to do some very nasty things to me."

"Don't worry," Zell replied, standing up and crossing the bridge. He put a heavy, calloused hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "I promise you that I'll keep you safe from here on, okay? Make me your unofficial bodyguard, eh?"

"I'd like that," Ellone answered with a smile, setting her hand on his. "Thank you."

* * *

"_Stop running, little SeeDs, and bring my prize back!" _came a disembodied voice, resounding off the dilapidated fortress walls. Serra was forging ahead, just in front of the SeeDs, while Irvine helped a limping Victor run as fast as he could. Meanwhile, Selphie kept their rear covered, slamming a door shut behind them and using a fire spell on the metal lock to seal it shut. 

"Did I ever mention," Irvine muttered, "that I _hate_ Sorceresses?"

"You just hate magic," Selphie replied.

"No, no, magic is fine," Irvine replied quickly. "I like magic. What I don't like are stupid Sorceresses using it totoy with us."

As the sharpshooter was speaking, Serra rounded a corner just ahead. There was a scream, and an eruption of flame, and she backed away, startled but not terrified. She waved the others to follow her around the corner, and they did, hopping over the scattered dust from one of the White Robes who had apparently strayed too close to the mystery woman.

"Okay, another question, while we're dodging the crazy uber-bitch," Selphie piped in. "What exactly is going on here?"

"I . . . I'm not sure," Serra replied after a moment's hesitation, definitely sounding uncertain. "At least you know why they're afraid of me, I guess."

"They pop up like Bite Bugs in the face of fire when they're around you," Irvine clarified. "But why?"

"They . . ." she trailed off, and then started floating further down the hallway.

"_Get back here, you worthless, barren SeeDs!"_ Veronica's voice sounded in the hallway. "_There's no way to escape. Keep running and you'll just die tired!"_

"Well, gee, that's great incentive for us to stop," Irvine deadpanned as Serra opened a door ahead of them. They found themselves looking upon the spiraling staircase of a tower, leading both up and down.

"Which way?" she asked after a moment.

"You don't know your way around this place?" Selphie asked, and Serra shook her head.

"I came here because I . . . Well, I was hiding."

"From who?" Irvine questioned. As he was asking, the sharpshooter grabbed a pouch from within his coat, and pulled out a bottle of healing potion.

"You," Serra replied immediately. The SeeDs, excepting Victor, who was starting to get dizzy from his wounds, looked at her in only mild surprise.

"Why are you hiding from us?" Irvine asked, proceeding to pour the potion over Victor's severe wound.

"People . . . they don't understand . . . ." Serra shook her head after a few moments. She looked around, and then up and down. As she was doing so, Irvine turned his attention back to Victor's injury, but blinked in shock when he saw that it was barely mending itself like it should have.

"The hell?" he muttered, and Victor, skin pale, shook his head.

"It has to be the same thing that's sapping our magic," he muttered weakly. "Its taking the potion's healing energies and makingthem useless."

"The Sorceress, you called her," Serra cut in, looking back up. "She's up there, waiting for us."

"How do you know?" Selphie asked.

"I can feel her power," Serra whispered. "Its enormous. I don't want to see it any closer! We have to go down, now!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Irvine asked quickly. "Down? As in, deeper into this fortress? That's not conducive to escaping."

"Better than going up," Selphie replied. "We can't take on Veronica with our weakened magic. We can't go back the way we came, either. We have to go down."

Serra glanced between both of the SeeDs, obviously afraid, and not just for herself.

"We can paste that bitch," Irvine countered. He then paused, and shook his head. "But I'd rather get some backup first. Running around with a half-conscious SeeD and weak magic is not a good way to tackle another crazy Sorceress. Down it is."

* * *

"So, that it?" asked Xu as Squall held up his wrist. The SeeD Commander nodded, glancing down at his arm as Doctor Kadowaki wrapped a dressing around his wound. 

"Illarra is in custody, and the majority of her group are dead," Squall replied. "Everyone is safe and alive, and Zell is inbound with Laguna and Ellone." Kadowaki tied off the dressing, and Squall rotated his wrist. The bandage stayed on tightly.

"Thanks," Squall replied, and she nodded.

"That bandage should stay on tightly enough that you won't have to worry about it interfering in combat," Kadowaki explained. "Though I certainly hope you don't end up having to fight again anytime soon. You've been through enough as it is."

Squall nodded and stood up. A few moments later he and Xu were outside of the infirmary, heading toward the central elevators.

"We had Illarra locked up in the brig down below, but not before we checked her," Xu continued. "You were right. She did have Guardian Forces on her, though only a couple. Specifically, Bahamut and Leviathan."

"Bahamut?" Squall echoed. "Where did she get him?"

"We don't know," Xu replied with a shrug. "That's pretty low on our list of questions we want to ask her, but we'll be waiting a few days before we begin the interrogation process. Let her defenses wear down with a lack of sleep and food. I'd prefer to get more aggressive, but the headmaster refuses to use force in interrogations. Besides, judging by what you said, pain won't make her talk anyway."

"Right," Squall replied after a moment. "I don't think would work on her. She's too psychotic to really do much good. I'm not sure how we can interrogate her, myself. Not even sleep and nutritional deprivation may break her."

"We'll think of something," came a voice ahead of the pair, and both SeeDs looked ahead, to see Cid Kramer standing along the path. Squall hesitated for a moment, and then walked forward, extending his hand. Cid took it.

"Welcome back, Squall," Cid stated with a smile.

"You were able to patch that message through from Ellone, weren't you?" Squall asked, and Cid nodded. "Thank you."

"We knew it would be the easiest way to get to you, though Mayor Dobe is having a fit since his communications network was hacked."

"He can get over it," Squall replied. "I'm just glad I didn't kill anyone today. Except the terrorists."

"Indeed," Cid replied. "Though the one you brought in alive is somewhat . . . Disturbing."

"I know," Squall said, shaking his head. "I don't understand her at all. But some of the things she said are . . . ." He trailed off.

"Well get her to talk, eventually," Cid replied. "In the meantime, we need you to get some rest. Zell, President Loire, and Ellone should be here within a few hours. Both you and Rinoa deserve some time off for everything you've done today."

"Yes, Headmaster," Squall answered after a moment. "I think I'll do just that."

* * *

"This is getting us nowhere," Selphie muttered as the group paused for a moment, Irvine and the badly wounded Victor panting from the exertion. They looked around, scanning the long passageway they had been running down. The interior of the structure was labyrinth of halls, chambers, and locked doors that they didn't have time to kick open. Selphie was positive that they had run down this hallway three times before, and now . . . . 

"_Little SeeDs, trapped like rats in a sinking ship,"_ Veronica's voice drifted toward them. _"I know you're running scared. Why not just stop and give up? I'll make it quick . . . ."_

"Yeah, yeah, stick your head out, bitch," Irvine responded loudly, tired of the running game. "I got a special couple of rounds waiting to be introduced to your face!"

Victor suddenly groaned in pain, clutching his injury. Selphie quickly stepped to the SeeDs side and cast a potent healing spell over it, but the magic barely seemed to even brush his injury. The Trabian SeeD shook his head.

"We have to get out of this place," he said weakly. "We have to figure out what keeps stealing all our magic."

"I agree," Irvine replied, glancing to where Serra was supposed to be. He was surprised, but really only slightly, when he saw she had vanished.

"Now where did our lost guide wander off to?" he mused, and as if to answer his question, he saw her emerge from a side corridor further down the passage, and quickly waving her hands.

"Fresh air!" she called, and the two words energized the trio. Irvine hefted Victor, and the two SeeD started hobbling as fast as they could, while Selphie ran ahead.

"I felt fresh air down the hallway!" Serra continued, excitedly. "There must be a way up onto the surface up ahead!"

"What are we waiting for?" Selphie demanded. "Go, go, go!"

They dashed through the hallways, following right behind Serra as she led the way. They, too, could smell the cool Trabian air as it drifted down the passages, and that strengthened their resolve and speed, exciting the escaping group of SeeDs.

Irvine watched Serra as she seemed to glide down the hall, her feet not touching the stone floor at all. It seemed strange to him, though in light of all the other weirdness going on around here, Irvine didn't think much of it. Crazy guys in white robes, lunatic Sorceresses, creepy castles, and disappearing magic . . . Adding in a strange flying girl who made the bad guys explode when they got too close almost made sense in a way.

As Irvine was running, Serra spun around, still flying in the direction they were heading, and waved over her shoulder.

"I can feel the outdoors!" she shouted, smiling. "We're almost safe!"

It was, at that moment, that the world decided to take a particularly cruel turn for the worse. Even as Serra was speaking, Irvine saw, for an instant, a hair-thin line of red light cross over her body, and skittered to a halt. Selphie did as well, and as Serra paused, her expression shifting to one of confusion, three words shot through the sharpshooter's mind.

_Infrared sensor, shit!_

"Serra, stop!" Irvine shouted, and she came to a complete halt in mid-float.

That was a mistake.

Directly in front of her, a wall of steel bars shot straight up, cutting Serra off from the three SeeDs. She jerked back in shock, and then rushed forward, grabbing the bars, surprise and fear apparent on her face.

An instant later, and with another screech of metal on stone, a second set of bars shot up, directly behind her.

"What's going on?" she cried out in confusion as Selphie rushed to the bars. Gritting her teeth, the tiny SeeD pulled as hard as she could pitting all of her GF-enhanced strength against them. Selphie, though, was not overwhelmingly strong even with junctions, and the bars refused to budge.

"I can't move them!" she cried. Selphie stepped back and raised a hand, attempting to discharge a bolt of magic, but nothing came forth. Irvine raised his rifle, and then lowered it after a second. He couldn't fire his weapon; any round strong enough to destroy the bars would also hurt or even kill Serra.

"We'll get you out of there, just hold on," Selphie continued, and Serra nodded, looking around the interior of the trap, trying to see if there was any mechanism she could trigger herself.

An instant later, however, the trapped girl suddenly began to sink into the floor, or rather, the floor itself began to sink, taking her with it.

"Irvine, Selphie!" she called, reaching up through the bars as the floor dropped away.

"Hold on!" Irvine shouted, and he snapped up his rifle, pointing it at the bars. He threw the risks aside and fired a blast, launching a grenade round that exploded against the steel rods. The explosion momentarily deafened him with its close proximity, and a brilliant flash filled the room, but when his vision returned and instant later, the bars were only slightly warped by the detonation. Serra, however, had disappeared, and a new floor panel slid into place, locking her away below them.

"Dammit!" the sharpshooter shouted, punching the floor painfully.

"We'll find her," Selphie said quickly, looking back the way they had come. "We have to get to her before Veronica does."

"Yeah, her," Irvine added. He glanced back at Victor, who was leaning against the wall, even paler than normal. His pant leg was soaked with blood, and a slender trail of crimson marked their path.

"Hell, he's bleeding out," Irvine muttered, running over to the injured SeeD's side. He quickly checked the wound, shaking his head; he should have seen how bad this was getting.

"Leave me," the wounded SeeD said after a second, weakly. "I can't make it, and I'm slowing you two down."

"We just lost Serra, I ain't fucking letting you die here!" Irvine snapped back. He tore off part of his cold-weather jacket and tied it around the injury. "This thing is worse than I imagined it could be."

"I'm not going to survive," Victor continued, and straightened himself up. "I said for you to leave me. You can make it on your own, but not with dead weight."

"You're not dead yet," Selphie answered.

"Though he will be soon, heh."

The SeeDs turned their attention to the way they had come, and were not surprised to see the familiar purple and green garments of Sorceress Veronica strolling down the hallway. The crazed, evil Sorceress was wearing a satisfied smirk on her face as she looked them over.

"Oh, I see you lost that annoying companion of yours. How unfortunate. It seems she fell into one of our traps. Don't worry, I'll find her and take good care of her, trust me."

The SeeD said nothing for a moment, and then Irvine grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of shells, special ones marked with blue and white Estharian script.

"What are you going to do with that?" Veronica asked with a smirk. "You know your bullets can't get past my telekinetic shield. Its like firing blanks at me." Behind her, filing up on all sides, came the familiar men in white, brandishing all manner of archaic weapons.

"Right," Irvine continued, loading the round into his rifle. He leveled it at Veronica, who waited with arms crossed. It was his turn to smirk, however, and, with casual ease, he spun the rifle around his trigger finger. "I can't get past your shield myself. So, we go for Plan B."

He glanced down at Selphie.

"Duck."

She blinked in surprise at his order, and then hit the floor as Irvine came around, pointing the rifle at the wall beside her. He depressed the trigger, and a tremendous flash of white light filled the corridor. A bolt of raw energy erupted from Irvine's weapon, tearing into the wall he was aiming at. When the light dissipated, the spot he'd shot had become a wide hole, leading into another passage. He then turned toward Veronica, grinning, and fired a second shot of his specialized Estharian Pulse ammunition. The white light swept toward her, threatening to consume the Sorceress in a firestorm of annihilation, but she threw up a defensive shield before her to absorb the destruction. White Robes on both sides vanished in the wave of destruction, though more rushed up after them to fill their places.

In the furious display of technological power, Irvine grabbed Victor, and both he and Selphie rushed through the hole in the wall and into the passage beyond. However, Victor suddenly tore free of Irvine's grasp, with surprising strength, and turned back to the entrance of the new passage.

"Get out of here, now!" he ordered, and both of the other SeeDs hesitated.

"I said run!" Victor snapped, looking back at them, his wound suddenly forgotten in a surge of adrenaline. "Get the hell out of here! I'll slow them down!"

"But you'll-" Selphie began to protest.

"I'm dead anyway," he responded. I won't last until we get out of here, not without medical help or a healing spell. Now go!" Victor raised his sword, pointing it at Irvine's face. "Or I'll kill you myself!"

Irvine locked eyes with the valiant SeeD, and finally nodded. He glanced back to Selphie, and then, at the same time, both of them raised their hands, palm inward, covering their right eyes. Victor nodded, but did not return the SeeD salute, conserving his energy.

"Go!" he shouted. "Get out of here!" The other pair, quickly turned, and with one last look back, ran forward into the passage. Victor turned back toward the hallway they had just left, and saw Veronica stalking forward, enraged, her minions on both sides. Victor raised his sword fearlessly.

The White Robes surged forward, and he met them with flashing steel and indomitable spirit. His blade sliced flesh, severing hand and arms, stabbing into hearts and cleaving through necks. Heads rolled, robed madmen screamed, and Victor fought on. In his final moment, the Trabian SeeD fought with the strength of a dozen men, taking hits and trading them back with lethal counters. A dozen cuts or stabs found his body, but twice that many foes fell to the floor before him, until they had to scramble over the corpses to get at him. He struck them as well, rending their flesh and leaving the mad minions of Veronica Anderson in tattered ruin on the floor.

The tide abated after several minutes of ferocious, savage conflict, and Victor fell back, panting uncontrollably. His wounds began to bleed more profusely, and the SeeD's eyes lost focus for a moment.

"Enough," came a call, and Victor focused his vision as the wall of corpses was swept aside. Veronica strode through the masses of her slaughtered minions, shaking her head.

"Such a waste," she whispered, and then laughed as she turned her eyes back to Victor.

"Waste of what?" Victor shot back. "It looks pretty good . . . to me . . . ."

"Indeed," Veronica replied. "This is no loss, I assure you. There are plenty more of these worthless rejects for me to utilize a minions. Rather, I meant the waste was of your apparent skill and talent, as well as your life in this final struggle."

"I'm dead anyway," Victor replied. "At least I went down fighting. Step a little closer, make my day."

"No, thank you," Veronica responded, and gestured toward Victor. The Trabian was suddenly raised up into the air by Veronica's sadistic will. He watched, incapable off resisting, as his blood dripped off his legs and pooled on the floor. His attention was stolen when Veronica held a hand up, blackness crackling around her like raging electricity.

She thrust her hand at him, and the blackness shot through Victor's body, ripping through his muscles. His mouth was wrenched open in an involuntary scream, and then he was launched against the wall, slamming into it hard. He fell into a slumping stand, his weight supported by the rough stone wall, his muscles crying in agony. He watched in helpless fascination as Veronica strode forward, toward his form.

The Sorceress raised an index finger, and a tiny ball of shadow appeared there, resting at the tip of her finger. She smiled as she walked past the doomed SeeD, and brushed her finger across his forehead.

"It was a valiant attempt," she admitted as she strode past. The ball of shadow passed into Victor's skull, and his entire body jerked once, in a final spasm of protest as the dark energy coursed through the SeeD.

Victor's sword, still clenched tightly in his hands, clattered to the floor as his body went limp, dropping to the ground. The White Robes filed past his body silently as Veronica passed through the portal Irvine had cut, and continued the pursuit.

* * *

"These hallways never end!" Selphie complained as they ran down yet another passage. 

"If I ever find the guy who designed this place, I'm going to punch him in the jaw," Irvine commented. He stopped near a corridor that branched off, and glanced down it.

"This way!" he called.

"Why?" Selphie asked, and the sharpshooter shrugged.

"I've got a hunch this takes us someplace important," he replied. "Plus, there's a big metal door down there that doesn't look like it's supposed to be part of the castle."

Not really having any better ideas, Selphie followed Irvine down that hallway, hurrying as quickly as they could. They didn't know how much time Victor had bought them, but they weren't going to waste it. They drew closer to the door Irvine had spotted, and it seemed he was right. Unlike the heavy, cast-iron or wooden doors throughout the rest of the castle, this one was made of industrial-grade steel, and features rivets, hinges, and red industrial paint. Selphie tried the door, but found it locked.

"Taken care of," Irvine responded to the barred door, and he loaded and fired an armor-piercing round into the lock. The shell blew off the lock and almost took out the door as well, and the two SeeDs burst through, into a new passageway.

"Definitely not part of the castle," Selphie stated, as they found themselves running down a corridor featuring concrete walls, metal piping, and industrial lamps along the ceiling. "You get the feeling there's a lot more going on down here than there seems to be?"

"Definitely," Irvine replied as they neared an intersection in the passage. He paused, listening intently, and then held up a hand, warning Selphie to stay still.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and Irvine poked the tip of his rifle around the corner, using the metal's reflective exterior as a mirror. He hesitated, surprised, as he saw who was approaching. He glanced back at Selphie, not certain what to make of this.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Estharian soldiers," Irvine answered, and he glanced back down at his rifle. The group of Estharians had paused, conferring among themselves, and then drew weapons, and cautiously advanced.

"Don't look too friendly," he commented, and then shook his head. "If they're down here, they may be working with Veronica."

"Estharian troops working for her?" Selphie echoed, understanding the implications.

"No time to guess as to their intentions," Irvine replied, and Selphie nodded.

"Take 'em down, fast," she added, and he nodded, loading a cartridge of rubber bullets into his rifle, the kind that would stun over kill. He wanted to avoid killing these men if he could . . . One never knew in this kind of situation. The sharpshooter glanced at Selphie, who nodded, clenching her nunchaku tightly, and they stepped around the corner.

The Estharians approaching froze for an instant as the two SeeDs raised their weapons.

"Its them," one of the soldiers quickly stated. "Blast them!"

_Definitely unfriendly!_ Irvine thought as he fired a burst, launching three stun rounds at one man's head. The rounds struck his helmet, rocking the soldier's head back, while the others rushed forward. Selphie smacked her nunchaku into one man's gut, and he doubled over, but only for an instant, standing straight up again. Another closed in, raising his shotaxe high, and Selphie smacked his as well, the iron bar cracking into the side of the soldier's head. He was spun around, but recovered instantly and came back in, surprising the small SeeD. The other soldier she was fighting rushed her as well, chopping viciously with his axe, seemingly uninjured by the nunchaku strikes.

Irvine fired into his tow foes, his rounds striking their bodies but doing little more than knocking them back a half-step with each burst. He watched in amazement as the soldiers took his stun rounds without much regard, absorbing the impacts like parched sponges. After several moments of alternating fire between the two men, the cartridge of stun rounds ran out, and Irvine decided it would be better to switch to more lethal ammunition. He pulled back a level on his rifle, switching it back to standard ammunition, and raised his weapon. He fired a quick shot, blasting one man's shoulder. The soldier whipped around, and then rushed forward, heedless of the injury.

_Who are these guys?_ Irvine wondered as he fired another barrage of shots, taking the soldiers in the chest. However, like the White Robes, they seemed to shrug off the injuries and kept coming. Apparently content to use their plasma rifles like clubs, the two soldiers drew close and started swinging viciously. Irvine ducked and weaved, slipping away from the enemy soldiers for a moment, and fired another shot, this time into one man's faceplate. He screamed and fell back, clutching his helmeted head as strange maroon-colored blood erupted.

Irvine was so surprised by the freakish blood that he took a swinging rifle to the gut and was doubled over, almost heaving his breakfast from the impact. There was no way a normal human was that strong! Unless . . . .

Selphie fell back desperately, fending off her two foes with everything she had. Still, her skills as a SeeD were not enough to keep up with the two men, who moved as quickly as her, and seemed to take her nunchaku strikes without flinching. She actually hard one of the men chuckle as he came forward, heedless of the iron bar that slammed into his chest, and kicked her viciously in the shoulder. She was spun around hard, and then something hard cracked into the back of her neck. She fell forward, vision filling with stars, and something hit her in the head, blasting her into darkness.

"Selphie!" Irvine cried, and managed to toss himself back from a strike that would have caved in his skull. His fingers moved rapidly, loading a shotgun cartridge into his rifle, but as the other two soldiers turned away from their unconscious prey, shotaxes raised, he knew things were going to be tough.

It was then that the other soldier shot forward, plasma rifle smashing into Irvine's chin and rocking his head back. He felt something grasp his rifle, and the weapon was hurled away. Then, there was an impact in his chest, and Irvine smashed into the wall hard, his skull striking the concrete behind him and dazing the sharpshooter. Darkness swept up to claim his vision, but as he watched, the four soldiers, including the wounded one, towered over him, staring down at the collapsed SeeD.

"Get 'em down to Iceblood," one of the men ordered coldly, and then Irvine's mind sank into shadow.

* * *

-

* * *

Dangit, about time I finishedIrvine and Selphie'spart of the story. Okay, now that that's taken care of, we can relax a little bit. There'll be a bit more dialogue and a lot less action next chapter, though rest assured, there will be some shocking revelations and a slew of new twists as well. And soon, we may discover more about some of our mysterious new characters, especially Serra, Alucard, and the weird little girl Crell was speaking with. 

**Peptuck Episode II: ATTACK OF THE SHOUT-OUTS!**

**Leonhartilly:** Dang, that was fast, wasn't it? I was bored, I had the soundtrack, and I thought, "Hey, I've been waiting for this fight scene, myself!" So, I wrote it. Boom, it was done virtually overnight.

**E:** Yeah, it was based off RE4, obviously. I think I said that last time, didn't I? Maybe. Meh.And yep, I knew people would like to see Randolph come back.

Time spent varies. Last chapter was about six hours in one day, on and off. Generally, for a chapter this size, I spend about five to six hours typing it, total. Tack another few hours onto that spending time organizing the story and developing dialogue.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** What? You expect me to kill off a villian that quickly? No way! She will get what's coming to her, though not before a lot of questions about Illarra and her past have been asked and answered.

Quistis will kick ass. She and Alucard make an excellent fighting team. Expect to see them working together sometime in the future.

Blech. Resident Evil movies. Hated them, they wer enothing like the games. Excepting RE4.

No, Raine isn't the Chimera, precisely. The Chimera has actually been mentioned before in this story, but only in passing, and by their real name. (Mwaha! Watch me use indefinite pronouns to disguise gender!) Its not Laguna, Raine, or anyone you'd actually expect.

Aha! I was hoping someone would notice that aspect of Illarra's personality. Yes, she does sound aroused by Squall as much as she hates him. That's intentional. Trust me, she is rather . . . bonkers, obviously. For reference to the characters who are similar to her, she is equal parts MGS's Liquid Snake and Guilty Gear's I-No. Basically, psychotic, horny, sadistic, evil, ambitious, crazy-ass lunatic bitch who has an extreme axe to grind with the main character.

I was supposed to be at Parris Island about, oh, a month ago now, but I was medically disqualified. I'm trying to get around that, though.

For inspiration, I look at stories I've read, watched, or heard about, and think to myself "Hey, this idea sounds cool. What were to happen if this and this were applied to it?" or "I like this character. I think I could use this aspect of them here..." etc. My characters are often composites of other characters, with twists put on them and dramatic changes. like I said, I mixed elements ofI-No and Liquid Snake together, and then added my own ideas, backstory, and history, and you get Illarra. That's the way my mind works. So, to a degree, I do take aspects of other works and modify them to my own ends. That's why I think I'm so good at novelizations, myself.

**Chris Ganale:** Bah. Nothing matches the GGXX soundtrack for the kind of fight scenes I write. Also,I hope you spotted the obvious stormtrooper reference in this chapter.

**Platonic1:** Hey, you're LittleGenius90, aren't you? Anyway, Illarra did lose, because you don't screw with Squall. And Nida is currently flying Garden, in between stints as a stunt double and cultivating a rich career as a used styrofoam salesman.

**OniRazz:** Well, duh. I am using the genetics concept from Metal Gear, though to a different degree. Genetics links people together in interesting ways, and I wanted to create a character who absolutely hates Squall, at her heart and core. And Seifer will be back, hopefully sometime soon. He wojn't play a really critical role until . . . ha! Thought I was going to spoil something, huh? No dice, pal!

**JadeAlmasy:** Squall's going to get his rest . . . though he won't get one for a while afterward, heh.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** That's an original thought! I didn't expect anyone to guess Irvine was the traitor! No, he isn't, though. Good guess, but no cigar for you.

**Katy:** Trust me, you have no idea how deep this runs. It goes down to the very . . . wait, I ain't talking! I might spoil something! You attentative darlings might figure out the ultimate secrets beforeI am ready to reveal 'em!

**Solid Shark:** Very, very deliberate. Its got a lot of parallels with the MGS storyline involving liquid and Solid, but I've substantially changed it to fit my vision. Suffice it to say, the idea of genetics and super-soldiers was the basis for that background.

**Prodigy: **Eating is for the gluttonous, and sleep is for the dead! Well, Squall didn't say that, but I had Zell do it instead. :P Don't ever say I didn't use reviewers' ideas!

**Kimahrigirl:** My primary ideas revolving around Illarra are the concepts of "serpent","hatred", "insanity" and "lotus flowers". A lot of her stuff is purple in color, because of the whole lotus theme I've got going on. In original drafts of the story, Illarra had a criminal/terrorist organization named "Lotus" that was supposed to be a rivalagainst SeeD, complete with junctions, GFs, magic, Limits, everything.

**Tain Shari:** Heh. I like it when people like my villians. Illarra is the major one at the moment, but there are a few more (Veronica, Crell, Malachi, the mysteious little girl) who have their own distinct personalities and agendas.

Irvine and Selphie are going to find a lab, though what's being researched . . . well, wait and see.

**Psylockian Emperor:** You know what? I like you. You're mean to me, and I like it when an author is critical, not just spouting praise. Sure, it hurts hearing criticism, but its like a shot: uncomfortable, but good for you.

Anyway. Thanks for the advice and suggestions. I could really use those, maybe to help me round out my characters' personalities.

The Malachi vs. Zell fight had specific purposes. It was cool, but I needed it to show just how dangerous Malachi and Crell's group was. If they can create a soldier who can kick Zell's ass like that, then it lends a lot of credence to thestatement that "I'm the future." It also established Malachi was a dangerous opponent, and created him as a rival for Zell, in a way. Also, if i dragged the knife struggle on for too long, then that was intentional. I wanted to stretch that battle out,to make it tense and show, again, that Malachi was dangerous, and that Zell was in serious danger of death at that moment.

I left out how the Ragnarok was able to locate the heroes mainly because an explanation of such simply didn't fit. The whole purpose behind that chapter was to be quick, and to rapidly show the buildup to to Squall's desperate charge. If I put in some exposition as to the location of the hangar door or how Ragnarok and Raptor Squadron found the entrance, it would kill the flow and progression. I didn't want that, so I left it out. It was a tough call, but I had no place it fit while creatingthe overalls tructure of that chapter. (as an aside, one thing I hate about this kind of chaopter updating is that explanations that would appear in later chapters don't appear for a while, which makes current chapters seem like they have plot holes. Its very annoying.) Also, its easy to determine who the badguys are: just shoot the guys shooting at you. There's plenty to blow up, so determining who shoot isn't that difficult.

Also, you messed up there about the general, or anyone but Squall, crying. Squall was the only one who did that. Everyone else just simply stood down, and Randolph helped Squall stand up. Nobody else was crying.

**Elachim:** Ay ay ay! Almost missed your review!

Yes, the knife trick. Standard commando technique. Don't leave home without it.

"Chakram" is one of those silly words that is the same plural as it is singular, much like "katana" or a lot of other foreign words.

Yes, Simmons died. May he burn in hell, that sick bastard. It felt good killing him, and using Laguna himself as the instrument.

I knew people would like those transitions. I hooked onto that idea like a rabid pitbull, and refused to let such an awesome idea go.

Yes. Obviously, as this chapter demonstrated, things are very intricately connected, with veronica's castle being connected with Iceblood Prison, which it seems Crell's people run. Illarra, Crell, Malachi, and Veronica all have important, critical positions within one massive conspiracy.

Wow. I didn't actually draw any comparisons between the sniper operation in FFVIII and the one here. Shocking, I know. Maybe its just because I have a short attention spa - ooh, a butterfly!

Wait, where was I? Oh, yeah. Aha! That's how I spell"sheathe" and "sheath"properly. I'm taking notes here.

Lex's style is, again, reminiscent of a specific character I like: Johnny from Guilty Gear, and his special move, Mist Finer, which is a lethal iaijutsu strike. Lex managed to get out of that situation because he's afucking badass, that's how. That's all you need to know.

I actually laughed out loud when you commented on the head-butt and headaches. I didn't even know I'd written that, myself!

Yes. Hyne is playing a role in here. I say nothing about Hyne, but she is present. Also, my story is fairly well-planned out. I've got the bare-bones progresison of the story, though I only work on the specific details and action itself when I get to that general arc of the story.

"Once Squall and Seifer learn of..." What indeed? Let's just say that,w ell, the true scope of the story has yet to have been revealed. BAD THINGS are going to happen. Good Things, too, but they don't get the caps-lock importance like the BAD THINGS do. :P

Yes, the fight between Zell and Malachi is manga-ish. Especially Lex's return to the battle, from who-knows-where. And again, Lex survived because he's better than you, that's how. :P

Yes, I'm evil thatw ay. I have the whole relationship between Squall, Illarra, and Squall's family, as well as the Chimera, planned out. The truth will be revealed in the Iceblood Prison arc of the story. Remember Seifer's scene earlier? He mentions two doctors, who will be ofgreat importance.

Illarra's remark about stealing destiny is more from her insanity than anything else. Remember, whatever she says, its mostly because she's fuckin' loopy. I am stealing a bit of inspiration from Daz's work, but that's why I mentioned beforeI began the story that this was inspired by his work. I need a villian who hates Squall more than anything else, and the idea of a stolen destiny makes perfect sense in that regard. Squall hasn't lived long enough to make enemies any other way, really. At least she's not his twin sister from the future coming back in time to conquer this time.

Answers as to, well, everything may come sooner than you expect. In the next story arc, in fact, a lot more is going to be revealed and answered. Seifer, technically, doesn't have the genes of the Chimera, I'll say that much. He's a special case. He does, however, have a special relationship I'm not going into at this point.

My titles...well, I use whatever I think of. I'm going for a theme of one-word titles, and I throw out a word I think fits in some regard with either the chapter in general, or with its placement within the series as a whole. Some are just ideas bouncing off each other, like the "Stillness" and "Motion" chapters.

Serra is the big secret here. I'm not saying anything about here. Even the slightest clue might give up important information about her. I will say, however, that she is possibly one of the most important characters in the story. Precisely who and what she is, however, will remain a complete mystery untilI chose to reveal them. Suffice it to say, you will be shocked.

Good guess as to the traitor. Wrong, though. Let me throw out some clues here: First, he is, obviously, male. He's appeared in this story at least once. He's affiliated with Garden, and able to access much of Garden's interior. He's also not one of the three male heroes of FFVIII, nor is he Seifer, or Cid. Those are your clues.

That's everything, right? Awesome.

Until next chapter!


	13. XII: Declaration

_**Chapter 12: Declaration**_

It was warm and peaceful, something Squall had almost forgotten existed after what had happened to him the previous day. He lay back in the bed, the most comfortable mattress he had ever rested in, warm and blissful. By all rights, he should have been slumbering, but he wasn't. Despite the fact that he had earned this rest, and was physically exhausted,he still had not fallen asleep, even after collapsing into bed.

"Can't sleep again?"

Squall opened his eyes, and turned his head slightly to his right, and found himself looking into Rinoa's eyes, her gaze searching his own, as always. It was hard to see her face in the darkness, but her eyes seemed to stand out in the dead of night.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly, turning his body slightly toward hers.

"Your breathing," she replied. "It wasn't relaxed, like you were sleeping. You're thinking about what happened yesterday, right?"

"Yeah," Squall replied, looking back up at the ceiling.

"You need to stop worrying," Rinoa whispered in his ear, and he felt her thread her arms around his body, pulling him closer. "I'm safe with you. I always will be, no matter what."

"I know," Squall replied, putting an arm around her as well. He squeezed her against his body, and turned to face her again. "I . . . I don't think its that, though," he continued.

"What is it?" she asked, and Squall shook his head.

"Illarra said some strange things to me. Things I don't know how to place. She told me why I can't rest anymore, why I want to fight so often . . . ."

"Did you believe her?"

"I don't know what I want to believe, now," Squall replied with a slight shake of his head. "Some of the things she said are bothering me, though."

"You won't figure them out at this time of night," Rinoa responded, resting her head against his cheek. "Just relax, and let things sort themselves out."

"I should, but I can't," Squall whispered. "Something won't let me rest until I find out more. I need to talk to her, to get the rest of the truth out of her . . .but if I do, she's as likely to attack me as speak with me."

"You can't do anything right now," Rinoa pressed. "Just rest. You've earned a night's sleep after today."

Squall didn't respond, but instead nodded slightly, his nose brushing against hers. He cleared his mind, closed his eyes, and replaced all the memories of the previous day with Rinoa's face.

Within moments, Squall had begun to drift off to sleep, when he heard Rinoa whisper something as she snuggled closer.

"What?" he asked quietly, almost beneath his breath.

"I was thinking about our little girl," Rinoa replied. "She would have been three a week from now."

"We can go visit her after everything has calmed down," Squall said quietly, and Rinoa nodded.

"Now, you need to sleep," she continued. "That's an order."

Squall chuckled, and, without much more difficulty, he cleared his mind once again, and drifted off to a well-deserved rest.

* * *

A dozen SeeDs flanked the door into Interrogation One, weapons out and ready. The Garden troops were on high alert after Squall's escape earlier that day, and even more so now that an extremely high-priority prisoner was contained within. They quickly stood at attention, however, as Quistis Trepemoved down the hallway purposefully, directly at their door. 

"I need to see the prisoner," she stated brusquely to the squad captain of the unit. The SeeD nodded.

"Understood, ma'am," he replied, and nodded toward the SeeD closest to the door. That SeeD opened the door and allowed Quistis entry into the monitoring chamber, where a single SeeD was on duty, watching the monitors and glass window peering into Interrogation One.

Sitting behind the table, feet propped up and head hanging back over her seat, was Illarra, perched in a pose of absolute boredom. She had beens tripped down to just aher shirt and a pair of pants, and had been thoroughly searched for anything she might have been armed with.

"Good morning, ma'am," the SeeD on duty said, and Quistis nodded, watching Illarra as she sat back, clearly waiting for something to happen.

"How is she doing?" Quistis asked, and the SeeD shrugged, hand playing over a button marked "alarm clock."

"No food, minimal water, and been keeping her awake whenever she nods off," responded the SeeD. "Hasn't shown any signs of stress at the moment. Probably going to be a few days before we crack her." The SeeD paused, and glanced at a monitor showing vital signs. "Nodding off again. That fight with the Commander must have tired her out."

He slapped the button, and a foghorn erupted inside the interrogation room. Illarra jerked up, shocked for a split second, and then her expression shifted to anger. She sent a raised middle finger at the window and settled back, to which the SeeD chuckled.

"She's in high spirits," Quistis commented, and the SeeD nodded, yawning. She glanced at him. "Tired?"

"Keeping an eye on her is boring," the SeeD responded. "I've almost fallen asleep a few times. I wanted to get some coffee, but she's high priority.I can't take my eyes off her."

"Go get some, I'll keepwatch on her," explained Quistis, and the SeeD sat forward.

"You sure? Thanks." He stood up, stretched, and moved outside. "I owe you one." Quistis nodded, and waited for the man to leave the room. As soon as the door closed, Quistis' hands played over one of the keyboards. Within seconds, the monitors cut off, and the video feeds vanished.

"Clear," she whispered, and looked over her shoulder. "You can-"

"Enter?" Alucard asked, right beside Quistis, and she jerked in surprise. She almost told him to quit doing that, but said nothing. His habit of suddenly appearing out of nowhere was bothering her, but Quistis knew he likely wouldn't stop, even if she asked him to.

"Yeah," she replied. "Though judging by what Squall told me, I don't think you needed my help to get in there."

"Breaking someone out, no, I need no help," Alucard replied. "But carrying out an interrogation, on the other hand . . . Well, I like to have someone to keep an eye on things. Temporal displacement bubbles require some effort to hold, and I don't think I can properly interrogate her and keep one active at the same time."

"Admitting limitations?" Quistis mused with a slight smile as the mysterious figure stepped toward the door. He made a jovial grin, but didn't otherwise respond, and opened the door. It took Quistis a moment to remember it should have been locked, but Alucard didn't seem to play by those kinds of human rules.

Quistis watched the glass as Alucard strode into the room. Illarra perked up as soon as he entered, and then sat up straighter, obviously alarmed.

"The hell are you?" she snarled. "Garden pick up a new interrogator?"

"Interrogator, yes," Alucard replied, slowly cracking the knuckles of his gloved hands. "But associated with Garden . . . Only in the loosest of terms."

"Hmph," she responded. "Fine. Is Squall trying to get around Cid's 'no torture' limitation here? I wouldn't be surprised if he was. He's out there, isn't he?" She sent a jaunty wave at the window, complete with a plastered smile.

"Actually, the Commander is elsewhere," Alucard stated. "I'm doing this alone, mind you. Now, let's get started, shall we?"

"Do whatever you want," Illarra said with a shrug. "Doesn't matter what you throw at me. When it comes to pain," she sat forward, a strange smile on her face, "we're close friends."

"Of course," Alucard answered as he rounded the table. "Standard interrogation won't work. That's why I like to do this."

His hand shot forward as he stood over her, and tightened around Illarra's neck. Her eyes opened slightly in surprise, and he lifted her up out of the chair with effortless ease.

"Oooh, big strong guy picking me up by the throat," Illarra muttered. "I've seen this plenty of times. What are you going to do? Choke? Stab? Cut? Maybe throw me around the room? How about smash my head against the wall, that's happened a few times."

"You are no stranger to torture," Alucard mused, but then his face twisted into a smile. "But I don't use anything as inelegant as pain."

Illarra was about to snap off some retort, but as she opened her mouth, her jaw went slack, dropping open. Alucard shifted his arm, bringing her closer so he could stare into her eyes.

Quistis watched as Illarra's fingers started to tremble slightly, and her eyes were locked open as Alucard looked into them. His expression remained rock solid, but his eyes seemed to shift, transforming into a strange dark purple color, a faint glow passing between them and Illarra's orbs.

"Tell me," Alucard hissed.

Illarra didn't respond, seeming to be struck still and awed by Alucard's presence. He brought her closer to his face, smile changing to a more sinister expression.

"Tell me," he repeated.

Illarra's jaw started to tremble as well, and her eyes started moving back and forth, a sif looking for some means of escape. Alucard held her firmly, staring at her, his gaze never wavering. The room seemed to darken as he pushed his will upon his prisoner ever more strongly.

"Tell me!" he snarled viciously, surprising Quistis, and Illarra's jaw suddenly moved, quickly speaking out two syllables, almost under her breath. Quistis certainly couldn't hear the words, but Alucard definitely made them out. The room cleared, the glow vanished, and Alucard made a single motion with his arm, dropping his victim back into the chair. He clapped his hands together and turned around briskly, while Illarra fell forward onto the table, eyes closed, body limp in unconsciousness.

The elegantly attired man stepped out of the room, straightening his cross-shaped tie, a firm, satisfied smile on his face.

"She should awaken in but a moment, with no memory that this ever happened," he stated, apparently quite happy with the results.

"Is that it?" Quistis asked, surprised, and Alucard nodded.

"One word is often all one needs to hear, my dear Quistis," he replied with a casual wave of his hand. "When one peers deeply into another's soul, and tears out the one thing that locks away all their secrets, then one has bypassed all their defenses. Only those with the stoutest of hearts can withstand such an interrogation. Illarra does not have such a defense; her armor is callous anger and rage, and the befuddlement of mental anguish and sickness. No normal interrogation will ever break her."

"What did she say?" Quistis asked, and Alucard paused, rubbing his chin.

"What would happen if I told you, I wonder?" he asked. "How would this knowledge be used? What might happen if I let this slip?"

"What are you talking about?" Quistis asked, and then sighed angrily. It seemed every conversation with this guy ended up with someone asking that question.

"I speak of matters that may best be left out of human hands," Alucard answered. "If I told you, things would change. Letting slip one tiny word can alter the course of the future forever. I must be very careful here . . . ."

"Just say it," Quistis demanded, crossing her arms. Alucard considered for a moment, and then looked at her impatient expression, and finally chuckled.

"Fine, then," he replied. "She said 'Iceblood.' That is where the secret to everything lies, I believe." He then suddenly bowed formally. "Until we meet again, Quistis Trepe. I bid you a fond farewell."

Then, like magic, Alucard simply stepped backwards, and . . . was gone.

* * *

_Nightwalker: A term given to a collection of particular creatures who apparently defy normal classification. Nightwalkers are rare entities that do not possess standard magical powers or abilities, nor do they seem to have been mutated or brought to the planet due to Lunar Cries. Nightwalkers take on various forms, and are rumored to possess multiple forms, and all appear to be sentient and highly intelligent. There are numerous legends about Nightwalkers aiding humans in need against lunar monsters, but reports on these creatures have slackened off in the last two hundred years, as technology has flourished. Some reports indicate that Nightwalkers may be connected to the Unbound._

Rinoa sat back, widened her eyes, and then blinking them quickly. She rubbed them, her retinas a bit tired from staring at the computer screen for so long. She had been following up onher Alucard research from the previous day, but so far had found little more than legends about him, mostly gathered from old Centran and Galbadian mythos. They certainly didn't describe him as the figure she'd caught a glimpse of in the warehouse, but these were myths from ancient peoples. Authors from those civilizations tended to embellish their characters.

One particular legend had included several references to Alucard as a "nightwalker," and when she'd looked it up, a new entry had appeared, which intrigued her. Even moreso was the last line, relating to the Unbound. Rinoa knew a little about them, but not much. Like Nightwalkers, they resided in legend. She looked up that term, wanting to gather more information. Anything might help her and Squall figure out what the heck this strange guy was.

_Unbound: A specificterm given to certainGuardian Forces. Guardian Forces fall under several classifications, the most common known as Bound and Unbound. Unbound Guardians differ from their Bound relations by the fact that they are not confined to a specific location or object. Commonly known Bound Guardian Forces include Ifrit, which resides specifically in the Fire Cavern on the eastern coast of Balamb, or the Brothers Minotaur and Sacred, which reside within the Tomb of the Unknown King on the northern coast of Galbadia. Unbound, on the other hand, are harder to pinpoint and identify. There are rumors that Unbound masquerade as humans, walking among mankind without revealing themselves. Their agendas are varied yet unknown. Of the few known Unbound, one is Fenrir, a great wolf-like Guardian, said to wander the forests of the world. Another is Ramuh, a Guardian of storms and wind, who is said to preside over other wind or electrical-based Guardians such as Queztocotl or Pandemonea. _

Rinoa shook her head as she looked the data over. None of this was really helpful in determining who Alucard was. He was still a complete enigma. Maybe if she had a chance to meet with him, Rinoa could attempt to read him using her magic, but otherwise, the library's archives were drawing up nothing but question marks.

The Sorceress sighed and closed the terminal. She sat back for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, when a face interposed itself between her and the rooftop.

"S'up?" asked Zell jovially a smile across his face. Rinoa winced when she saw the cut across the brawler's neck, and the bandage applied to it.

"Hey," Rinoa answered, sitting forward again and spinning the rotating chair around. Zell leaned back against a bookcase, crossing his arms. "You look pretty rough, though I don't want to imagine what happened to the other guy."

Zell chuckled, and touched his bandage. A year ago, he wouldn't have needed one, but Cid was growing more concerned with Garden's reliance on magic for healing purposes, and was restricting its uses to actual battlefield injuries as opposed to medical treatments in the infirmary. Magic was still unpredictable, even after all the study put into it, and no one wanted to risk it failing at a critical moment.

"He got knocked around nicely too," Zell responded. "At least I'm not like Lex. Guy's stuck in the infirmary for a week, until he recovers from all the burns. I don't think anyone got out of that fight without some kinda wound." He glanced at the terminal, and raised an eyebrow. "Looking something up?"

"I was," Rinoa answered, sitting back and shaking her head. "Nothing's coming up, though. I was running a search on this guy who keeps showing up around here, but all I'm getting are old legends and links that lead nowhere."

"Who are you looking up?" Zell asked.

"His name is Alucard," Rinoa replied. "He's been helping us out, but Squall is suspicious, and Quistis has been trying to find out more about him . . . ." Rinoa paused, noticing Zell's thoughtful expression. "What is it?"

"I heard that name before, and pretty recently," Zell said after a few moments. "I think it was something about the Estharian Bureau of Intelligence, looking out for any mentions of his name, or something. We'd probably find out more if we searched the Garden Intel records."

"I can get us authorization from Squall," Rinoa said quickly, standing up. Finally, a new lead . . . .

"Let's go find him," Zell replied. "You know where he went?" Rinoa paused at the question.

"Oh, he told me he was going down to the brig level," she stated after a moment. "I told him it wasn't a good idea, but he said he had to talk to _her_ as soon as possible."

"That Illarra bitch?" Zell asked, and Rinoa nodded. "What does he want with her?"

"He didn't say," Rinoa replied. "He's not saying anything about what they were talking about during the battle yesterday. I'm not sure why, but it has to be something personal."

"Personal?" Zell echoed. "Squall? He hasn't been around long enough for this kind of thing to be personal. He doesn't make enemies. At least, when he does, they tend to die pretty fast."

* * *

"Good afternoon, Commander," stated the SeeD on guard in the monitoring room of Interrogation One. Squall grunted a reply, turning toward the window and watching Illarra. He narrowed his eyes as he saw her looking down at her fingernails, obviously completely without care. She glanced back up at the window, and then back to her hand. 

"Say anything?" Squall asked, and the SeeD shook his head.

"Except for a few curses every time we wake her back up, she's been completely mute," answered the SeeD. Squall nodded, then removed his gunblade belt. He set the weapon, along with his sidearm and his knives, on the desk beside him, and then glanced to the SeeD.

"Kill the feeds," he ordered. The SeeD hesitated, but then snapped to his orders. His hands played across the panel before him, and a moment later, he looked back to Squall.

"Microphones and video off. Life monitors off. Sir . . . I hope you're not going to do something nasty to her."

"I'd like to," Squall answered darkly. "But I just need to talk with her. Privately." With that, Squall walked toward the door, tapped the keypad, and opened the portal. He stepped into the room, catching Illarra's attention, and she sat forward, a smile crossing over her face.

"Squall! About time you showed up!" she stated with a snicker. "I'm getting lonely, and I want to complain about the room service. These people have been very rude to me, I demand a new room."

"Shut up," Squall snarled, closing the door behind him. He moved across the room, to stand in front of the table. Illarra leaned back, stretching out languidly, before interlocking her fingers behind her head.

"So, why are you here? Not to share tea and gawk at my lovely features, I'm guessing?"

Squall's scowl widened her grin. She knew he was still uncomfortable with the strange physical similarities between them.

"You know something," Squall stated. "Spit it out."

"I know a lot," she replied, smug smile firmly entrenched on her features. "But I don't like sharing my little secrets, Commander. You'll have to find them out for yourself."

Squall stood there for several moments, staring at her, and suddenly reached down, grabbing the table and lifting it up. He cast the furniture aside, launching it against the wall, and stalked forward.

"Throwing furniture," Illarra commented offhandedly. "Oldest interrogation trick in the book. What are you tryi-"

Illarra's words were cut off as Squall sent a vicious right hook into her smiling face, launching her backwards and tipping over the chair. She spilled onto the floor, and the SeeD Commander, grabbed her roughly by her hair and hauled her to her feet.

"The table was in my way," Squall answered. "And this-" he sent a powerful uppercut into her gut, doubling her over, "is just to make me feel better."

"Oooh, Squall, I like it when you play rough," she cooed as she stumbled away. Illarra straightened, smile still on her face, though a nasty bruise was apparent on her right cheek.

"What do you know about me?" Squall demanded, stalking back across the room.

"Everything," Illarra answered. She scooped up the chair she had been sitting in and sat back down. "I know everything about you that there is to know. I know more about you than anyone, even your father or Headmaster Kramer, is aware of."

"You mentioned my mother," Squall asked, crossing his arms. "What about her?"

"Only that she gave birth to you, and that's all that matters," Illarra replied, grinning. "Or at least, all I'll tell you. The secrets about your family are there, Squall. You just have to dig them up. The Chimera's blood . . . it's a very dangerous thing."

"How do you have it?" Squall asked next, and she burst out with a gale of laughter.

"Oh, my story," she whispered. "Its tied inextricably with the story of the Chimera himself. Suffice it to say, Squall, things between us are very . . . complicated. Your family is very strange, Squall. The drama that surrounds our lives is very intriguing, from your ancestor all the way to those who never even saw life after the womb."

Squall paused, and stared at her hard. She stared back, a strange smile across her face.

"What did I say?" she echoed. "Oh, yes. Your daughter? Stillborn, so sad, too bad. Do you know why it happened?"

Squall shook his head.

"Your daughter's death still haunts you, doesn't it?" she asked. "A perfectly developed baby girl, about to come out of the womb, and then, pop! Dead. No explanation, no warning. No discernable medical reason. You want know why she died?"

Illarra sat forward, staring at Squall intently.

"She died because of what genes you carry!" Illarra stated. "Our blood is cursed. At childbirth, someone always dies! Your mother, mine, your baby . . . None of us escape that curse that marks us. The blood of the Chimera killed your mother, and it killed your daughter, too!"

Squall stood there, silently for a moment, and then nodded.

"I see," he answered. He thought about what she had said for a moment, and then nodded again. "Thanks. You told you me a lot more than you thought you did."

Illarra's face scrunched up in confusion, and Squall suddenly turned around, moving toward the door. He left the room without another word, leaving Illarra quiet and alone in the empty interrogation chamber, uncertain what he had just said.

Squall walked back out into the corridor outside, shaking his head. His show had been to keep the satisfaction from his prisoner, but in reality, what Illarra had said jarred him to the core. What she had said about his unborn daughter alone was shocking enough, but the implications of that knowledge . . . .

Squall paused near the elevator as a group of SeeDs, a dozen or so, filed out of the lift, fully armed. He glanced at his watch, and nodded. It was shift change time; they were relieving the guards at Interrogation One. He stepped past the SeeDs as the last one moved out, and ascended toward the command deck.

In the center of the group, hidden from Squall's view, one of the men released his breath. Good . . . He wasn't going to be connected with this group when the crap hit the fan after they were done. The group of SeeDs moved down the hallway, and met with the guards at the entrance. There were salutes, a passcode was given to confirm that they were the new shift of guards, and the old group moved off, glad to be off duty. The new group flanked the doorway, and the man in the center of the unit stepped forward, opening the door to Interrogation One.

"Sir!" said the SeeD behind the desk, standing up quickly and saluting. The man responded with a salute of his own, and glanced toward the interrogation room, noting the table that had been tossed across the chamber.

"Everything alright?" he asked, and the SeeD nodded.

"The Commander roughed her up, but its nothing serious," he answered. "The mics were off; I didn't hear anything. I still haven't brought the feeds back up yet."

"You should, and quickly," the man replied. "We've received word that her people may attempt a rescue."

"Really?" the SeeD asked, looking back at Illarra's cell. "Any idea when they might move?"

"Yes. Right now."

The SeeD's head jerked to the side as the man fired two silenced bullets into the side of his head, and then replaced the smoking gun within the folds of his coat. As the dead man fell to the floor, the killer calmly crossed the room, opening the door to Illarra's cell. She glanced up at the newcomer, and quickly stood.

"You," she muttered, suddenly excited. "Is it time?"

"A dozen of my men are waiting outside," he replied, nodding. "They should get you out of here with little trouble. Your weapons and equipment are waiting outside. You should hurry."

* * *

The powerful Estharian airship _Render_ settled in behind Mayor Dobe's home, the backwash from its anti-gravity system blowing Laguna's hair back. He moved forward as it settled in, and the President of Esthar was waiting when the ramp lowered. His grin was wide and sincere as his two closest friends and aides strode down the ramp. 

"Kiros! Ward! Great to see you guys!" he called. The massive, powerfully built Ward, along with the slender and agile Kiros, advanced down the ramp, wearing equally sincere grins. They were not bedecked in Estharian robes, but rather in gear more closely resembling their old battle garments, though of considerably better quality and make. Ward stepped forward at the foot of the ramp and pulled Laguna into a massive bear hug.

"Ack!" the President wheezed. "Uncle! Uncle! Lay off, not everyone benches three hundred!"

Ward dropped his friend to the concrete with a hearty chuckle, and Kiros help Laguna pick himself back up.

"Good to see you're alive, man," the slender man admitted. "When we heard about the train, both of us were hit pretty bad. But we figured you were still alive, somehow." Ward grunted something, sounding annoyed.

"Yeah, man," Kiros continued. "With the comms blackout after the bombing, we were lucky we could hear the news you were alive. I don't think anyone else knows, the message got cut off pretty fast."

"Wait, what?" Laguna asked. "Comms blackout?"

"Reports from all over Esthar are saying that comms systems are going haywire due to some outside interference," Kiros explained. "Electronic systems all over the country are out because of some virus that was downloaded through external comms systems. We were able to cut it off when we disabled wireless communications, and we had to cut HD lines too to completely stop it. Suffice it to say, Esthar had to be cut off from the outside world to stop the attacks."

"Who was responsible?"

"Bureau intelligence still hasn't placed it," Kiros replied, shaking his head. "They said it was routed from a series of islands, but may have originated from here in FH."

"Don't trust the Bureau," Laguna said quickly, remembering what Simmons had said before he had tasted Laguna's wrath. "We can't believe any reports we get from them." Ward grunted in confusion, and Kiros echoed the sentiment.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "The Bureau's always been reliable. Has their intelligence been compromised?"

"For longer than you can imagine," Laguna answered grimly. "Let's get inside Garden, I've got some real bad news. Who ordered the comms blackout? You guys?"

"No, Director Varines did, right after the bombing."

Laguna jerked to a halt.

"Crell?" he asked, shocked. "When did he get that authority?"

"After the bombing of the Palace," Kiros replied. Ward snorted something, and Kiros nodded. "Right, he hasn't gotten the worst news."

"What happened?" Laguna demanded.

"There was a meeting of the Wisemen's Council after the train attack," Kiros explained. "Director Crell Varines called it. Intelligence has always been quick when it comes to this stuff. He apparently was late to the meeting, which saved his life, because there was a hovercar bombing by the same people who did the train attack and the assassination attempt here. All the Wisemen were killed, excepting Crell. He's now acting head of Esthar until you return."

Laguna felt his knees go weak. He stumbled for a moment, and Ward managed to catch him.

"That . . . That damn sonova . . . He has control of _my_ country?"

"Laguna, what are you talking about?" Kiros asked, and Laguna shook his head, standing up.

"Crell Varines is Major Virago," Laguna answered. Both Kiros and Ward stood dumbstruck for several moments, and Laguna nodded. "I got it from a very reliable source. Virago must have been using his contacts to make up a new identity. I don't know how he got to be so high-up, but . . . Dammit!" Laguna punched a fist into a cupped hand, shaking his head as he did so.

"If you're right-"

"I'm positive!" Laguna answered. "If he's in control of Esthar, and judging by what we saw in that island base . . . he's going to start a world war!"

"We have to tell Garden, and President Caraway and Duke Haroldington," Kiros said immediately, and Ward made an affirmative grunt.

"Let's not waste any time!" Laguna continued, and pointed toward Garden. "Hurry!"

* * *

"Good morning, Commander," Cid said as Squall walked into his office. He reflexively glanced at the broken glass, which still had not been repaired, tough Garden's maintenance staff had managed to replace the broken privacy blinds. 

"Headmaster," Squall answered quickly. "I went ahead and looked into some of the information we found relating to those hidden cameras Intelligence located, and what we recovered from Illarra's base of operations. I think I found something you may want to hear."

Cid nodded, and tapped the button on his desk that closed the privacy blinds. As they slid shut, Squall continued.

"Cid, I've found the traitor."

"Who?" Cid asked, surprised, and at the same time very interested.

"I had to clear some people first," Squall explained. "The only way that Illarra could have done some of the things she did would have required Garden personnel with high-level clearance. They also would have required a high enough clearance to access Garden security protocols, in order to get around our sweeps for bugs and hidden cameras. They would need someone who could move around completely unquestioned. Here at Balamb, the only people with a high enough clearance are myself, you, Xu, and Quistis."

"That's right." Cid replied, nodding. "I certainly hope you're not implying Xu or Quistis did it."

"No, Headmaster," Squall replied, shaking his head. "Xu intervened in the attempted assassination. If she was the traitor, she would have known I'd be up there in the first place anyway, and would have avoided coming in. That clears Xu. Quistis helped me take down Illarra. That, and I trust her too much for this. I know her through and through. She'd never betray us."

"I agree," Cid answered with a nod. "And since its obviously not you or me, that leaves us at an impasse."

"Not quite," Squall answered. "This doesn't take into account that-"

Squall was cut off as the door opened behind him, and Headmaster Martine walked in.

"Ah, Headmaster Cid, Commander, I'm sorry," the Galbadia Garden Headmaster quickly apologized. "I didn't know there was a meeting. I apologize for interrupting it."

"No problem, Martine," Cid responded. "Please, come in. You may need to hear this. Squall was explaining something very important to me. He believes he may have uncovered who was behind this entire incident."

"Really?" Martine answered, closing the door behind him. "Interesting. I was coming up here, bearing the exact same news."

"You've located the traitor?" Squall asked cautiously.

"Why, yes, Commander," Martine replied evenly. "An exhaustive analysis of intelligence by Galbadia Garden Intelligence, with separate confirmations from secondary agencies, has determined who it was that orchestrated this entire attack."

"And that person is?" Cid asked, listening intently. Squall waited as well, wanting to know the name of the person behind this assault on his life. Headmaster Martine looked at Squall intently for a moment, and closed his eyes.

"Commander Leonhart, Headmaster Kramer, the person behind this attack was Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly."

"What?" Cid asked, rocked back in shock. He was speechless for a few moments. Squall, on the other hand, nodded, clenching his fists.

"I understand," the SeeD Commander replied. He sighed, and looked back at Cid, then at the closed security blinds. "I regret to hear that news."

"You understand, then, what has to be done," Martine continued, and Squall nodded once more.

"Perfectly."

Martine's head was rocked back as Squall's fist met his chin, and before the Galbadia Garden Headmaster could even begin to realize he was under attack, Squall fell upon him with a barrage of savage blows that pummeled him viciously. A few seconds later, Martine's battered form lay on the office floor, thoroughly unconscious, and Squall turned back to Cid, who was obviously even more shocked than before at what his Commander had done.

"What on earth was that for?" Cid demanded.

"Headmaster, as I was saying before he arrived," Squall continued, "I examined who was capable of carrying out everything required for the terrorist attacks yesterday. There was one person who was responsible for arranging everything, both in the conference and how the attendees would arrive, as well as had intimate enough knowledge of Garden's security networks to track me. I cleared all the higher-ups in Balamb Garden, and since Trabia Garden's personnel are too far away from here to be able to do what was necessary to support Illarra's terrorist actions, that left one Garden remaining. I couldn't be sure who it was, but when I interrogated Illarra a few minutes ago, she told me something that confirmed my suspicions.

"She knew sealed medical information about Rinoa's failed childbirth three years ago. Whoever was helping her had access to confidential medical records. Only myself, Garden medical staff, and Headmasters have access to that information."

Squall pointed at the body at his feet.

"Headmaster Martine Cayes is the traitor."

"You're certain," Cid said. It wasn't a question, but Squall nodded.

"Beyond a doubt," the Commander replied. "No one else could have done this."

"Good work," Cid replied after a second. "I was always suspicious of him. Why do you think he did it?"

"Money, power, fear, ideology," Squall replied, and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We have to secure him, and now."

"Agreed," Cid said, and hit another button on his desk. "Xu! I need you and a security detail up here now!" Cid received an acknowledgement, and then looked to the unconscious body.

"Now what do we do?" Cid asked, and Squall shook his head.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "We've unmasked Martine, but now we need to decide on our next move. Zell's report is very ominous, but . . . ." He glanced at Martine, scowling. "Martine was attempting to turn Rinoa against us. Or us against Rinoa. We can't have that."

"It's worse than that," Cid replied. "If Martine had made his case, then you would have been relieved of your command because of your association with Rinoa, due to Garden protocols. I would have been relieved because of the potential that I was involved or corrupted in some manner. Xu and Quistis would also be removed due to suspicion, and your own closest comrades would be suspended until an investigation was over. And in the meantime, Martine would assume command of both Gardens."

"And if Zell's estimates are right, then that army he saw at the island base could begin to move while we were out of commission," Squall answered. "That would immobilize Garden and leave Galbadia and Dollet to fight alone. Andif the plan yesterday had worked,their leaders would havejust beenassassinated."

"They thought this plan out brilliantly," Cid muttered. "No leaders for the other nations, Garden under their command . . . but they would need Esthar . . . ."

The door flew open, and four SeeDs on security detail, with Xu at the head, burst into the room. They looked around, and spotted Martine's body on the floor.

"Xu, I need you to take Headmaster Martine Cayes into custody," Cid ordered. "Under charges of treason against Garden."

"Understood," Xu stated without missing a beat. She and the Security officers quickly moved to arrest Martine as he lay unconscious on the cold floor.

"Members of Galbadia Garden might be a part of this," Squall stated, and Cid nodded.

"Let's get down to the command floor and mobilize," the Headmaster suggested, and the two leaders of Balamb Garden quickly moved outside, past Xu and her troops, and down onto the command floor.

"Attention!" Squall barked. "New orders!" The entirety of the staff shifted their attention to their two commanders.

"People, we have new information that changes things," Cid stated. "We are to consider all members of Galbadia Garden to be potential threats as of this moment. Headmaster Martine Cayes has been confirmed to be behind yesterday's attacks. We don't know if anyone else is operating in collusion with him."

"Scramble all passcodes," Squall ordered. "Bring Balamb Garden to Yellow Alert!"

"Intelligence!" Cid shouted. "Shift all of our assets and redirect them at Galbadia Garden! I want to know what every cadet, SeeD, and staffer of Galbadia Garden is doing, right now!"

"Issue recall orders to all Balamb Garden personnel outside the building!" Squall shouted. "I want everyone to drop what they are doing and get back inside! They are to avoid contact with any members of Galbadia Garden if possible!"

"Intrusion," Cid called. "I need taps into the Galbadia Garden mainframe, right now! Use all passcodes. I want to know what they are doing inside that Garden, and I want it now!"

"Security is to detain all Galbadia Garden personnel inside Balamb Garden," Squall ordered. "We are to hold them until we have confirmed they are not a threat."

There were several moments of silence as the SeeDs processed the string of orders.

"Get to it, people!" Squall demanded, and the room burst into activity as the technicians moved to follow the new orders. Squall and Cid watched them move about their tasks, and then glanced to each other.

"Feels good to be back in charge, right Squall?" Cid asked with a smile, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Yes, Headmaster," Squall answered. He saw movement, and turned to see the Garden Security officers dragging a semiconscious Martine down the steps.

"Excellent work, Commander," Cid added. "Hopefully we can defuse this entire situation soon."

"I wouldn't count on it," came a voice, and the two heads of Balamb Garden turned, to see Laguna Loire moving into the room, Kiros and Ward right behind them.

"President Loire!" Cid called. "What are you up here for?"

"Because we're about to go to war," Laguna answered ominously. Squall and Cid glanced at one another, obviously surprised, but not terribly so, at the news.

"Crell Varines is in command of the Estharian government," Laguna explained. "Crell's real name is Virago. He was a member of Adel's regime, and is part of the Neo-Adelist movement to bring back her rule. He was behind the terrorist attacks yesterday. He's the mastermind behind everything."

"Everything?" Squall asked, and Laguna nodded.

"The train attack, the kidnapping, using you to plant the bomb and try to kill the world leaders," Laguna stated. "He's in charge of the base where we saw those Garden knock-offs, and he's running my country. There's a complete comms blackout, and I'm guessing that if we try to get back into Esthar he'll have the military shoot us down. He's in control, and he's not letting go."

"You mean he's planning a new world war?" Cid asked, and Laguna nodded.

"No question about it."

Squall and Cid shared another significant look, but before they could say anything, there was a shout from one of the technicians.

"Headmaster, Commander!" she called, stealing their attention. "Sirs, we're picking up a transmission from Esthar! Its on all the channels and frequencies! Some kind of speech from the acting President over there!"

"Put it up on the main screen! Cid shouted, and a moment later, the main television screen overlooking the command deck shifted, to show a man standing behind a white podium of Estharian pastel blue, emblazoned with the Estharian sigil. Squall moved to catch a better look, and froze.

The man was at average height, much like Squall, and was in his late thirties, with thick, closely shaved brown hair. His face was slender, and he had blue eyes, matching Squall's. In fact, if it weren't for the age and the shaved head, he would look shockingly like Squall himself.

This was no coincidence, the Commander realized.

"_As of this moment,"_ the man declared at the camera facing him. _"Every television, radio, and HD cable in the world is receiving this declaration. Esthar's leadership has fallen, victims of the vile terrorist acts against our nation, and against other nations."_

"That's him," Laguna stated grimly. "Crell Varines. Major Virago. The guy who played all of us for damn _fools_."

"_But these butchers have failed to bring down all of Esthar's leadership! I stand here, Director Crell Varines of the Estharian Bureau of Intelligence, last surviving member of Laguna Loire's Wiseman's Council, and here, I take Esthar's leadership role. The nation of Esthar is under my stewardship, and I stand firm in protecting this nation against all of its enemies. _

"_These are trying times,"_ Crell continued, clenching his fists tightly. _"We all must be strong. Our foe today is ancient and even now, the wounds they have left on our great society are still bleeding. They have dealt fresh wounds yesterday, and we are all suffering. However, people of Esthar, and of the world, fear not! For we shall strike out! Those who committed these acts of injustice shall pay!"_

"What's he talking about?" Squall muttered, confused. "Is he actually saying he's on our side?"

"No," Cid replied grimly. "He's not on our side. I know where this is headed."

_Twenty years ago, Esthar was ruled by the brutal Adel Harbringer! Three years ago, the western nations battled Edea Kramer! Shortly afterward, we faced invasion and war at the hands of Ultimecia! And now, today, we have determined that yet another Sorceress has brought war to our doorsteps, rising up to strike at our leadership in a vile effort at casting the world into chaos! Through our vast intelligence networks, we have confirmed, without a doubt, that the enemy we are facing is now the Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly!"_

Squall took a step forward, shock and outrage flashing through his mind. It was one thing for Martine, a confirmed traitor, to have made such a declaration. But for a head of state to declare war against Rinoa . . . .

"_Balamb Garden is her home, and we call upon the people there to cast this vile witch out! She has manipulated everyone, threatening to inflict chaos through her seductive wiles and vicious, terrible power. She must be stopped before another Sorceress War begins!_

"_I declare to you, people of the world, that this day Esthar's army and navy shall mobilize! We shall find this Sorceress, and bring her to justice, and ensure that he entire world is safe from her tyranny! No longer shall the world be under the grasp of the Sorceress! Any who stand with her are our enemy, and we shall seek them out as well as the Sorceress herself, and end the danger their kind represent to our planet!_

"_This broadcast is my declaration of war. Peoples of the free world, join us in our hunt for the Sorceress. Stand with us or stand against us. But we shall not hesitate or falter. Justice will be meted out to those who warrant it. Make no mistake, for we shall win through!"_

Crell went silent, and a moment later, his image disappeared. Squall glanced back and forth between Laguna and Cid, and the other two leaders slowly shook their heads. Squall nodded after a second, and stepped forward.

"Attention!" he called, and all the SeeDs turned their gazes toward him.He stared over them, evaluating his people, and finally gave them a firm nod.

"Gear up!" Squall roared, eyes narrowing. His voice resounded across the chamber, echoing off the walls. "He wants a war? He's going to _fucking_ get one!"

* * *

-

* * *

Yay. One chapter that's mostly plot and dialogue, before we get back into the ACTION! And I assure you, this little rest is probably all we'll be getting. Within the next few chapters, war will begin, and the truth about Squall and Illarra, Crell's secret plan, and what Iceblood Prison's relationship to everything really is will start to surface. Next chapter, expect to see Irvine and Selphie again, behind bars! (is it just me, or does everytime someone escape, someone else ends up getting captured?I just noticed that...) 

Anyway. **LAS SHOUTOS-OUTSOS!**

**Orestes666:** Yes. There is a clear connection between the Estharian soldiers and Malachi. They're a lot like him, but they're unnamed scrubs, while Malachi is a badass. The White Robes are under Veronica's control, but I won't slip anything else. Their signifigance will be explained, possibly as soon as next chapter.

**Solid Shark:** Oh, yes. I took some ideas there. Not a tremendous amount, butI was inspired by Metal Gear.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Yeah, Iceblood is the same prison The Governor is located within. Speaking of him, he may appear next chapter, hopefully.

I was disqualified because I have flat feet. That's very bad if for a branch of the militarythat runs three miles every morning before breakfast.

And yeah, Irvine likes making witty, Han Solo commentary. After all, that's the role he plays in the group.

**Platonic1:** DING DING DING! You guessed the traitor! Also, you think that consiracy is massive, wait until you see who is really behind everything. There are so many layers in this story . . . .

**Leonhartilly:** Not just Squinoa, heh. There'll be some other pairings you may not be expecting. No yaoi though. Sick, foul, heathen things those fics are!

**E:** I believe that if a character has to die, they need to die with a meaningful death. To quote Ghost: "When its my time, let it be for something, and not of something."

Illarra is not a clone. Though she is conditioned to hate someone, I will say that.

Heh. Is this going to be a Zellone fic? Very possibly. I haven't seen very many of those...

**OniRazz:** Don't mess with Zell, who in tha hood is called Flexmasta Z.

Your guesses are wrong. Excepting Iceblood being where Irvine and Selphie are headed. (heck, a quick check of the prologue would confirm that) Iceblood is based more off Crematoria, at least,t he Undercity is. Lockdown is much like Butcher Bay, though.

**JadeAlmasy:** Remember how in the first chapter, Irivne and Selphie were commenting about there not being an old fortress or cackling witch on this mission? Yep. Heh.

Nida was not mentioned in the story. He wasn't the traitor, sorry.

**Chris Ganale:** You gotta love stormtrooper dialogue. Its the best for random goonery.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Heh. Wild guesses, and obviously, completely incorrect. Good try, though.

**Tain Shari:** Heh. You have no idea of the trouble they're in. Some pretty bad stuff i going to happen, and, well, someone isn't leaving Iceblood the same way they went in.

I feel safe saying this: Crell is not pulling _all_ the strings. Precisely who it is, I'm not naming, though I'd point my fingers at that little girl in the hovercar he was speaking with...

**Karaoke Risa:** Well, gee, she didn't stay put very long, did she?

**Elachim:** First off, oh, yes, Irvine is much like Han Solo. Remember that one quote in Gunblade? "Hokey magic and ancient weapons are fine, but they're no match for a good six-shooter by your side." He's the Han of this party.

Indeed. I wonder where Illarra got her Guardian Forces from? Maybe we'll find out...

Seifer may appear again as soon as the next chapter.

I didn't mean to sound presumptious. I meant that I write novelizations more easily than I write other stories.

There will be no time travel...I hope. Maybe for a sequel to this. I already have ideas for that planned out.

And yep, you guessed right. Here's a cookie. You caught on to the subtlety of Martine's arrival perfectly. He shouldn't have been there that quickly, but he was. A simple off-handed comment...how incriminating. You're also right on accessibility. As for motive, while not perfectly on, I will say greed did play a role in it. As I portrayed him in Gunblade, Martine is focused on his well-being and pocketbook. Also, you missed a big pointer I made very early on: Martine arranged for the entire conference to be at Fisherman's Horizon, and was behind the use of trains, as well. He set up the entire framework for the assassination attempts.

**Psylockian Emperor:** Aw, you're leaving? I'm sad.

I did fail to fully utilize Irvine and Selphie, I'll admit that. Their characters will become more apparent in Iceblood, however.

Yeah, I am keeping Alucard a bit...secretive, aren't I? His whole part in the story will emerge soon, and his conenctions, origin, and parts will surprise a lot of people, I'm betting.

Ah, I love making shoker moments like that. My favorite moments when writing include points where I write out the shocking plot development moments. Illarra speaking of the Chimera, Irvine and Selphie going to Iceblood, and in this chapter, the revelation that Martine is the traitor.

Yes. I'm a Jackass. I admit it. :P

Anyway, that everyone? Super.

Until next chapter!


	14. XIII: Iceblood

_**Chapter 13: Iceblood**_

"Ow," was the first word out of his mouth. In fact, pain was the first thought that went through Irvine's mind as he awoke, a throbbing pulse flashing throughout his head. There were other pains, too: soreness in his legs from all the running, an ache in his index finger from pulling the trigger on his rifle so often, a stinging pain from a crease along his shoulder where a spear had grazed him, and a tight, painful pressure on both his ankles and wrists, which were wrenched around behind him.

Irvine rolled over onto his back, and his eyes jerked open as his bare skin hit a shockingly cold floor. The room was white, a simple, bare chamber lacking any color. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, it was all one single shade of pure white, so perfectly colored that he couldn't even tell where they met.

And it was cold, too. Very cold. His skin started shivering, and the sharpshooter sat up. He was missing his clothes, excepting his trousers, apparently left on for modesty's sake. His arms, he noticed once again, were pulled tightly behind his back, secured by what had to be manacles. He tried moving his wrists, but they refused to budge, as if the metal was one solid piece. There was a similar pressure on his ankles, and Irvine looked down, to see solid cuffs binding his feet.

Irvine turned his gaze around the room, and stopped as he spotted the other occupant of the chamber, laying facedown on the floor.

"Selphie!" he called, and tried to rise up to his feet, before remembering what was clamped around his ankles. He fell over gracelessly, hitting the frigid floor again.

Selphie groaned something, and started to roll over. For whatever reason, their captors had left her clothes on, excepting her boots and minor accessories. She was bound similarly to Irvine.

The tiny SeeD began to roll over, and caught sight of Irvine as he sat back up.

"Irvine," she muttered, shaking her head as she tried to sit up as well. "Where are we?"

_Yeah, where are we?_ Irvine mused, and his memories of the battle with the freakish Estharian soldiers came rushing back like a tidal wave, including the final words.

"Iceblood Prison," he muttered, and Selphie's eyes widened.

"Iceblood?" she echoed. "That's just a story, isn't it?"

"Adel's secret prison," Irvine replied, shaking his head. "Before I passed out, they mentioned taking us there. Either we're in Iceblood now, or on the way."

Their conversation was silenced by the hissing of hydraulics. Part of the formless white room opened up, revealing a black corridor beyond, and through which stepped a small group of men. Four of them were in red and blue variants of the Estharian military uniform, bearing the colors of Esthar's military police. Between the two military police was a tall, skinny man in black Estharian robes, hands clasped behind his back as he entered the chamber. His black hair was closely cut, and a pair of polished boots encased his feet, also of a glossy black material.

"They're awake!" he mused in a slightly high-pitched tone, his lips split by a strange grin as he looked over the two SeeDs. "Oh, my, what perfect timing. Certainly they weren't unconscious for very long . . . ."

The skinny man paused, and let out a short chuckle.

"Ah, but pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself." He patted himself on the chest. "I left my real name behind a long time ago when I had to hide away from Adel's usurpers. Now, I am known simply as 'The Warden.'" He paused, and as Irvine started to open his mouth, the man raised a finger. "Of what, you may be wondering? Why, none other than the famed and legendary Iceblood Prison complex."

"Yeah, we guessed that much already," Selphie responded, and the Warden nodded.

"My men let out some little secrets from time to time, don't they?" he mused. "But regardless, you are here, now, within my prison. Consider this to be your . . . Orientation." The Warden gestured at the two SeeDs, and the military police moved over and roughly hauled them to their feet.

"What's first? Coffee and breakfast?" Irvine muttered, and the soldier slugged him across the face in response.

"I do so love idle commentary," The Warden stated with a quiet giggle. "Iceblood Prison was first built by Adel Harbringer to contain political dissidents and other enemies. After she was thrown from her place of power, it became the place where her agents and those still loyal to her placed their enemies and rivals. Of course, it's been a while since we've had fresh prisoners, though we did have a recent upstart in here a couple of months ago. He's been very uncooperative in letting us carry out the execution order on him. But I digress."

The Warden waved his hands to encompass the room.

"Iceblood Prison is buried beneath the frozen plains of Trabia. It is surrounded by miles and miles of uninhabited frozen winter lands. The only things out there are trees, hungry monsters, and patrols belonging to my forces and Veronica Anderson's robed minions. I assume you've already met them before becoming our guests."

"Crazy Sorceress bitch with a purple and green fetish?" Irvine asked.

"Yep, that's her," Selphie answered, and the Warden chuckled.

"From what I hear, you caused her a lot of grief, killing so many of her valuable minions," the Warden continued. "But then again, what we have gained as a result is certainly worth the losses. The actual first working Elemental has been recovered! The Prototype!And two SeeDs, loaded with information regarding Garden. Yes, quite the prizes!"

"You're not getting anything out of us," Irvine snarled, and the Warden's giggle filled the chamber. He stepped forward, eyeing the sharpshooter with a strange gaze, and then snapped a hand across, slapping the SeeD viciously, before spinning away.

"There are three main segments of this prison complex," the Warden continued. "The labs, Lockdown, and the Undercity. Lockdown is where all our important guests go, and spend the first few years of their stay, at least until we're finished breaking them down into quivering balls of humanity. Then, they are dumped in the Undercity, where general population is kept. Those who don't matter go straight down into the Undercity. Once you're down there, we don't care what happens to you." He turned and pointed at Irvine.

"You, my precocious Galbadian friend, are going straight to lockdown. You'll tell us everything you know about Garden, right down to the size of Commander Leonhart's boxers."

"You'd think I'd know that?" Irvine muttered, and the Warden giggled again, and smacked the sharpshooter, for no apparent reason.

"Doesn't hurt to check," he responded offhandedly. "Once we're finished with you, you'll be dumped in the Undercity. I expect you'll stand . . . maybe three days interrogation before we break you. But _you,_" the Warden turned toward Selphie, smile growing.

"Zat iz ze one!" came a voice from the entrance, and the SeeDs, along with the Warden, turned to see a short man with black hair pulled tightly back behind his ears waddle into the room, ahead of a taller figure who stayed back in the darkness. He wore simple white and gray robes, and none of the eccentric clown-like clothes that were the norm for him, but his face and voice were unmistakable.

"Odine!" Irvine snarled, and the short Estharian scientist paused, glancing at Irvine, before looking back at Selphie and nodding.

"_Ja_, zat girl iz ze one we need," he continued. "Zhe has had long-term expozure to ze Guardian Forcez. Zhe will do perfectly for ze experiment we've been vanting."

"Experiment?" Selphie echoed. "What are you talking about?"

"Guardian Forcez alter ze body of a human being," Odine answered. "Ve need to know how ze procezzez verk in order to perfect ze-"

"Odine, quiet your babbling, you fool!" the Warden snapped, and the short doctor quieted, turning toward the skinny man and pouting. "There'll be time for your exciting research when we get to speak with the Director again. He'll be most interested in how the experiment will effect the girl's body."

"Hey!" Irvine snapped. "You're not doing anything to Selphie unless-"

The Warden slugged Irvine hard across the face, and the military police let him drop to the cold floor.

"What are you going to do?" the Warden demanded. "You're a SeeD with no Guardian Forces, or guns! You're nothing without your weapons, just a long-haired prettyboy. You're worthless beyond what information you hold."

"Take off these cuffs and let me show you just how worthless I really am," Irvine replied, and the Warden sneered, before kicking Irvine viciously in the stomach. He doubled over, groaning in pain, and heard Selphie cry out his name.

"Abusing the prisoners again?" came another voice from the entrance to the chamber, and the Warden glanced over his shoulder. The man who had been standing in the corridor walked into the room, arms folded over his chest. Irvine couldn't see him, until the Warden walked out of his way to address the figure.

"Doctor Nash," he stated, suddenly more respectful than he'd been to Odine, or anyone else. Somehow, though, despite the respect, there was still that air of amusement and sadism that Irvine had sensed buried within the Warden, as if he was simply covering it up.

"They haven't even been introduced to their cells," muttered the man named Nash, as he looked over the pair of prisoners. Irvine's eyes widened as he made out the figure.

Nash was large, but not huge, and apparently well-built beneath the open white lab coat he wore. Black slacks and a brown shirt were beneath the coat, the shirt pulled tight over a toned, muscled frame underneath. Brown hair hung loosely around his head, gathered up over a black bandana he wore and dropping over the band, and gathered into a thick braid that apparently ran down the man's back. However, the thing that struck Irvine was his slender face, a very familiar-looking one. It was aged and weathered, with a toughness that came with age and hard living, and his jaw was more square, but there was no mistaking his features, or the blue eyes.

Squall.

Nash looked like Squall would have if he was in his late thirties.

"Doctor, they have just arrived, and this fool," the Warden whirled and kicked Irvine in the gut again, "needs to be taught that I am in charge of this installation. Here, I am the law!"

"I understand that," Nash replied. "But that doesn't mean we need to be so rude at our introduction." He paused, and glanced at Selphie. "That's her? The one who uses Guardian Forces?"

"_Ja!_" Odine answered excitedly. "Ze girl vill be zufficient, though I vould prefer ze Governor. He haz had more experience uzing GFz zen I believe ze girl haz. Zhe vill do for ze initial teztz."

"Then we should get to work," Nash responded quietly. He snapped his fingers, and the two men holding Selphie up started dragging her toward the exit.

"No!" she protested, and started fighting her captors, shaking violently. "Let m ego!"

"Selphie!" Irvine shouted, sitting up, new fear filling him. He had barely begun to move before the Warden turned and, with a sadistic smile, kicked him hard in the head. Irvine's skull snapped back, and he fell to the floor hard.

"Stun batons," ordered the Warden. "Low setting. Make it take a few hits before he passes out."

The two military police nodded and drew short cylindrical sticks, and touched panels on them, before turning to Irvine. The sharpshooter began to sit up, and they pummeled him with the sticks, sending powerful electrical shocks through his body. Irvine's muscles seemed to explode all at once, and his body spasmed uncontrollably. His attackers waited until he lost control of his body and fell to the floor, before hitting him again.

Irvine's vision then began to blank out. As he did so, one of the soldier barked a laugh.

"Two hits, on the lowest setting? What a wimp!"

* * *

_-writhing, screaming, she was calling out to him, reaching out, shouting his name-_

_A glimpse of something. A black wing, feathers, tears and laughter, both joyful and dark, red eyes, and fire. Flames and destruction._

_He felt it. Pain, anguish, anger, rage, suffering, torment . . . She wanted escape, she wanted freedom. The thing inside kept pulling on her, demanding release, but she couldn't control it or sate it, so it pressed against her, demanding violence and bloodshed-_

_Fear._

In a jolt, he sat up, clutching his head, panting in the darkness. He quickly looked around, the painful thoughts flooding through his mind as the dream flashed across his memory like a searing hot blade. His chest was heaving from the intense, frightening emotions and images within the dream . . . .

Was it a dream? Dream or nightmare, he couldn't place it, but he had never felt such poignant emotions and perceptions within a dream before. Not even after the incident on the Pandora.

Slowly, he turned and rolled out of his bed, or at least the thing he used as one. Thick fur was spread across the floor, and a thinner carpet of fur served as his blanket, which was about all the accommodations he had in the prison. Still, in the icy underground of the Undercity, there were few things better than a warm place to sleep. Now, however, the furs were filled with his sweat, and his body was burning from the intense dream.

He stood up in the middle of his chamber, and glanced at the dying coal embers in the fire pit, and walked across the room, to where his scabbard and coat were hanging on a small spike jutting out from the wall. He eyed them for a moment, and shook his head as he looked over the bloody cross still visible on one of the sleeves.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. That symbol was nothing but a blight, a sign of what his pride had done to him. That coat was his reminder of what he had done with his life, and the stains and blood on it were little more than indicators of how badly his life had been ruined by his ambitions. Now it hung on the wall of a prison. A suitable place for one such as he.

The man referred to as the Governor walked across the room and sat down at the cloven stalagmite he used as a stool, and thought, his cybernetic right hand curling up into a fist which he rested his chin on.

He did a lot of thinking. Thinking was most of what he had time for, especially now, at these late hours, when everyone else was asleep. Sure, he had to lead the other prisoners, and under his direction, they were strong enough to resist the guards who came down into the Undercity, but even so, the Governor often found nothing else to do but to think to himself. And he thought a lot when he did think, and most of those thoughts were of a dark nature.

He was a failure. He knew that in his heart, and he hated himself for it. His entire life had been proceeding from one failure to another. Never had he been able to succeed, even with all of his advantages and skills. Even at birth, he had been nothing; his mother was a impoverished teenage prostitute, and his father was a Dollet soldier who had disappeared in the Sorceress War. He had failed to succeed at his goal to become a SeeD, despite his prodigal talents with the gunblade. And he'd failed to become the knight of a Sorceress, instead turned into her puppet and lapdog, used as a means to wage war against people who had never deserved it.

_How much blood is on my hands? Can I ever wash it clean? Can I ever be forgiven? And more importantly . . . Do I deserve forgiveness?_

For his crimes . . . Treason, murder, aiding an insane Sorceress, and more personal crimes against those he cared for . . . Now, he didn't deserve forgiveness. This prison was his atonement, and he would stay here, and make the lives of the Undercity's prisoners better, until he died, or fate decided that he had atoned.

"Heh. Listen to me," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'm thinking like some angsty antihero with the dark secret. All I need is a black trenchcoat and long silver hair."

He stood up, and paced around the room, deliberately changing his line of thought. He reflected back on the dream that had awoken him, and shook his head. There were no real images, just emotions and thoughts, jumbled together. He closed his eyes as he reflected on them, and tried to remember the details. There was anguish, for certain, and fear, and what seemed like a separate presence, a dark force that wanted escape and freedom.

He couldn't precisely place what it was, but as the Governor went over the dream, he caught a brief glimpse of something deep within the folds of emotion and turmoil. He paused, trying to remember the image within the dream, and then opened his eyes as he realized what it was he had seen.

_Two wings, one black and demonic, leathery and reaching out, and a second wing with white, downy feathers. And both wings stretching from a tiny, crying child's back as it lay, confused and uncertain._

"What the hell?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Need to watch what I eat. Gives me all kinds of funky dreams."

The Governor shook his head, and moved back toward his bed, not entirely certain what the dream had meant, or if it had even meant _anything_. He lay down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, and attempted to return to sleep.

* * *

"_So, the experiment is underway?"_

"_Yes, sir. They should have begun the treatment process right now, and they expect results within the hour."_

"_Good. Director Varines will want to know anything he can about how the injections interact with someone who is already properly attuned to Guardian Forces. It may be the best bet we have to increase the yield . . . ."_

"_Sir, I think the prisoner is waking up."_

"Ooh!" the Warden squealed, and as Irvine started to ascend out of the blank darkness he'd been swimming in moments before, the first image he saw was the skinny man's face right in front of his own, that freakish grin splitting his cheeks.

"Wakey-wakey!" he said. "Oh, I'm glad to see you're finally up! You have a good nap?"

Irvine was hanging from his wrists by some kind of manacles, and was strapped to a cold metal wall. He ignored the Warden and glanced around the room, which appeared to be a simple utilitarian metal chamber. A lone light bulb was hanging from the ceiling, and a pair of military police stood by a large holographic panel covered with symbols, switches, and a detailed scan of Irvine's body and layout of his vital signs.

"I'd like to complain about the service," Irvine muttered. "I specifically requested _no _torture chambers."

The Warden giggled again, and nodded, stepping away.

"Also, the accommodations are really bad. A single light bulb? How many times have we seen this before? Really clichéd."

The Warden shrugged, and reached up, flicking the light with a finger, sending it spiraling on its cord and casting shadows all around the small room.

"Atmosphere," he answered simply, with a shrug. "I can't have my torture chambers outfitted with disco balls and pink wallpaper, can I?"

"It'd be an improvement,' Irvine replied, and the insane Warden laughed again, thumbing his chin as he did so.

"I'll consider it," he added, and then nodded to himself. "And just to show you my appreciation for the suggestion . . . ." The Warden snapped his fingers, and one of the Mps touched a light on the panel. Instantly Irvine's entire body exploded with pain, agony playing up and down his spinal cord. He gritted his teeth as a clawing, searing wave of suffering rippled down his arms and across his chest, before suddenly vanishing as the soldier hit the light again.

Irvine slumped in his restraints, eyes wide from the shock of the torture. He had known what these things were capable of, but never having been put through one before . . . .

"How did you like it?" the Warden asked. "I built it myself. It uses a specially modulating beam projected form that wall behind you to stimulate the pain receptors across your body. I can create any kind of pain I wish, in whatever pattern I wish."

"I'll be sure to let you take a whirl on it when I get out," Irvine answered, and the Warden's giggle sounded again.

"How audacious! I like my prisoners that way! Makes it more fun breaking them." He paused, thumbing his chin as he regarded Irvine for a moment. "Don't get your hopes up, however. No one has ever escaped from my prison in the last twenty years. You certainly won't be the first. Resume!"

Irvine's body instantly spasmed as pain ripped through his back, and then moved forward, across his chest. His heart screamed for an instant, and then his lungs burned, before the wave of agony dropped lower, diving into his stomach, and then tracing up along his back. A rapid-fire assault of pain ran up his spinal column, as if someone was playing his nerves like a keyboard. The sharpshooter gritted his teeth, and for the first few moments managed to keep from crying out. However, the agony finally overwhelmed his will, and his mouth opened, releasing a roaring cry of pain as the beam cut up into his neck.

The pain cut off a moment later, and Irvine slumped once more, his body already slackened and exhausted by the tormenting machine.

"I commend you for your willpower, SeeD," the Warden commented. "But I really must insist that your actions are entirely futile. Here at Iceblood, we have all the time in the world to break you. You can try to hold out, but it is simply an exercise in futility."

Irvine looked up at the Warden, and managed a slight laugh.

"Doesn't hurt to try," he muttered, and the Warden nodded.

"If you feel the need to resist, then I would have no problem feeding your desire to eat pain. Continue!"

* * *

They had dragged her through a series of hallways, and into a lab, followed by an operation bay. Selphie had not made it easy on them, and despite her restraints, she had managed to stomp one man's foot rather painfully, and bit another where his neck met his shoulder, where the armor was little more than cloth, eliciting a painful howl. Nonetheless, the two soldiers had managed to get here into the operations room. 

There, the men dragging Selphie had used some device to inject a drug directly into her skin, and within moments, Selphie's muscles had slackened as the drug sent a peaceful wave of calm over her. Once she had stopped resisting, the soldiers had strapped her to an operating table, and several lab technicians, as well as the two doctors, Nash and Odine, had entered.

Now, she lay on the bed as the technicians and the pair of doctors ran a series of tests, monitoring a number of biomonitors they were hooking up to her body, and observing readouts on her biology.

"It iz like I zaid," Odine stated. "Ze girl haz a thirty-eight percent adaptation to Guardian Force junctionz."

"Higher than we anticipated for a Trabian SeeD," remarked Nash, almost to himself. "But not as much as a full Balamb SeeD. She must have been using GFs lightly before she went to Balamb Garden. Still, its more than enough."

"Vich vun?" Odine asked as he looked over a tray of a half-dozen vials, set on a mobile hovering cart.

"Which one is she most adapted to?" Nash asked in response, looking over the readouts. "Hm. Ice element, it seems."

"_Ja!_" Odine cried. "Ve vill uze Zhiva!" He lifted up one of the vials, and turned to Nash. "Injection or IV line?"

"I would rather test it under possible battlefield circumstances," Nash responded as he crossed the room, moving toward Selphie. She watched him, a small bit of fear working its way into her, but partially suppressed by the drugs she had been given. Selphie was more interested in his facial features.

She had seen him in the orientation room, but now that Nash was closer, Selphie could make out his features even more clearly, and she was more and more convinced as she watched him: the brown hair, slender face, and blue eyes were very similar to Squall's. She had no idea of the significance of that similarity, however, and she couldn't even open her mouth to say anything. She could barely summon the energy and control to move her eyes around and watch the lab technicians go about their work.

"Zen injection?" Odine asked, and Nash nodded.

"Soldiers won't be able to use IV lines in combat," Nash answered, and Odine snorted.

"How many men vill uze zees in combat?" he demanded. "Bah. Vatever. Ve vill do it your vay."

Nash stood over Selphie, and met her green eyes with his own blue one. He seemed to read her expression, and then, after a few moments, shook his head.

"This may hurt at first," he advised her. "The pain will only be passing. I'm very sorry it has to be you."

Selphie did manage to open her mouth at that, but she couldn't say anything, and was only able to watch in fascination as Odine approached, with the glowing vial in hand, attached to a syringe. Nash took it from the short doctor, and glanced at Selphie again.

"_Forgive me._"

His word was barely a whisper, but she heard it clearly as he poked the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger. Her eyes widened instantly as an icy chill and biting pain shot through her arm, and quickly moved through her body, advancing up into her neck, and then down into her heart and lungs. If she could have writhed or screamed, Selphie would have, but she was unable to move or express her pain beyond her widened eyes.

The icy agony spread through her for several seconds, and then began to fade away, replaced only by a bitter chill, and a new, unnerving presence within her, an awareness she had touched many times before, but only as a distant voice in her mind. Now, however, it whispered closely in her ear, and she felt its age and wisdom filling her every being.

_Shiva?_

As she thought that, Nash nodded, and looked away. Her eyes began to droop slowly as a darkness swam up into her consciousness.

"Let her rest after this. Its going to be different for her when she awakes. I need to go see our other guest."

"Ze Prototype?" Odine asked, and Nash nodded as unconsciousness took Selphie.

"Yes. I need to make sure Serra's alright . . . ."

Then Selphie knew no more.

* * *

Irvine slowly sat up, shaking his head as he did so. His body screamed in pain as he moved, but the agony helped him regain his consciousness. He scented ozone in the air . . . his skin was still smoking after the torture. His body was lathered in sweat as well. That Warden bastard must have kept hammering him even after he passed out thirty minutes into the interrogation . . . . 

He reached up and wiped some of the stinging liquid off his eyes, his arm aching with the exertion. Irvine glanced around the cell, which was a simple, barren eight foot by eight foot steel gray room. There was nothing in the chamber excepting a single depression in one corner, which led to a drain pipe. It was pretty obvious what purpose that served. At one corner of the room, high up at the ceiling, was what looked like a camera of some kind. Great; they were watching him even in his cell.

He continued his survey of the blank room, and stopped when he saw the door directly in front of him. The solid steel, hinged doorway was opened slightly, and pasted up on the inside of the door was a note. Slowly, his body aching with each movement, Irvine rose and crossed the room, looking at the paper, and the writing scribbled over it.

_If you're reading this, then I estimated the dosage properly. It should be roughly the middle of the night, and all the other prisoners have been drugged and are unconscious. I slipped you a lower dosage, so you should be awake. I did some bypassing of the cameras, and the holocam in your cell should be showing your unconscious body. The guards are all asleep for the most part, except a few guarding the desk down the hall from your cell. Avid them, they can wake up the whole complex in an instant if they need to. There's a ventilation shaft two doors down to the right when you exit your cell. Get inside, and move down past five intersections. At the sixth, turn to the right, and then to the left. You should end up over an open grating in the labs. I'll be waiting._

_Oh, and there are some painkillers taped to the back of this note. They should ease the aches. Good luck._

"Huh," Irvine muttered, and glanced at the heavy steel door.

_I have a friend on the inside? Or is the Warden playing with my head? Wouldn't put it past that lunatic . . . ._

Irvine shrugged after a moment. If someone was trying to help him escape, he couldn't waste the opportunity. And if the Warden was playing with him, he would make sure it was the last game he ever played.

The sharpshooter pulled the note off the wall and flipped it over, revealing a pair of small pills. He quickly took them, swallowing them whole, and within seconds the pain running through his body started to ebb. With that taken care of, Irvine slowly opened the door, peeking out into the hallway beyond. It was dark and empty, but the floor was lined with small lights casting a soft glow along the hall, which let Irvine see the lines of doors on either side of the passage. He counted at least thirty doors visible along this hallway in the dim light. Slowly, the sharpshooter crept out of his cell, and closed the door behind him, which locked with a quiet mechanical _click_.

He quietly stole down the hallway, alert to any sounds, but could hear nothing beyond the distant hum of machinery. He quickly counted off the prison doors as he passed them, not wanting to think about the people behind them; he didn't have time to worry about the other prisoners anyway. As he passed the second door, he spotted what had to be a ventilation shaft, a standard industrial grating covering it. Unsurprisingly, Irvine found the covering loose and easy to pry open; clearly his "friend" had arranged this.

Irvine climbed up into the shaft, which was spacious enough that he could turn around and fit the grating back over the shaft. It wouldn't do for a passing guard to spot it, after all. Once it was fitted into place, he turned himself back around and crawled down the passage.

_What the hell?_ Irvine thought to himself as he crawled along. _I haven't even been here a single day and I've already started an escape? If this is a joke by that bastard, I'm gonna rip him a new one._

He counted down the intersections as he moved quickly, crawling as fast as he could down the dark ventilation shaft. Irvine felt weird moving through the shaft, like he was in a surreal environment. Sure, he'd seen this kind of thing in the spy movies, but the idea that he was actually crawling around some ventilation shaft like a super-spy was kind of ridiculous. Didn't people shield their shafts from this kind of intrusion? Surely the Warden would put some security measures in place if he wanted to keep his prison secure.

_Then again, that guy is bat-shit crazy, no question there. He doesn't play by sane peoples' rules._

He reached the sixth intersection and turned to his right, and crawled down it for a moment, before coming across another shaft turning to his left. He crawled down that shaft, and less than a minute later, Irvine was parked over a grating overlooking a darkened room, which appeared to be a biology lab of some kind. A quick tap on the grating showed it was loose, and he pried the cover off, before dropping down into the room silently. He ducked into a low crouch, scanning the room intently, and found nothing within beyond tables laden with test tubes, monitors, and microscopes, as well as other lab equipment.

Irvine stopped in his survey of the room as his eyes passed over a wall, consisting of several shelves behind a glowing force shield. Set on the shelves were several long vials of faintly glowing fluid. He moved across the room, curious, and his eyes ran over the tubes, reading the markings on them. He was shocked as he read each one, for every tube bore the name of a Guardian Force.

"Queztocotl, Ifrit, Shiva," he muttered, looking over them. "Leviathan. Bahamut. Minotaur. Sacred. Alexander . . . ." Irvine scrunched up his brows as he saw ones he wasn't familiar with. "Eden. Titan. Golem. Seraphim. Tiamat. Astaroth. Faust . . . ."

Irvine froze as he saw the last one, and a thousand echoes of pain shot through his body as he remembered the slivers of metal Ultimecia had shot through him in the final battle. He hadn't lived long enough to see it, but Squall had described the monstrosity that had slain Quistis, Zell, and Rinoa.

"Griever."

Irvine stared at that vial for a moment, not sure what it signified, but feeling a knot of dread in his stomach. What was going on in these labs?

He turned around, scanning the room again, and spotted a pair of doors. One had a window, and apparently led back out into the hall outside. The second one, however, appeared to be locked. Irvine moved over to it, and nodded as he read the words imprinted on the portal: "Operations Room."

Irvine quickly looked around the room, and into the drawers of the desks and tables. He quickly found a scalpel in one of the drawers, and thrust it into the old-style key lock on the doorknob. Security around this place was a lot weaker than the Warden had made it out to be, and the lock was easy enough to pick with the slender scalpel. Within less than a minute, the SeeD had opened the door, and stepped into the room beyond.

He hesitated as he crossed the doorjamb. It was cool in here, cooler than it was in the other room. There was a dead silence in the darkened room, but something wasn't right. It was large, that much he could see, and judging by what he could tell, it looked like both an operating room and a recovery chamber in one. He could hear only two apparent sounds: the regular inhale and exhale of someone sleeping, and the faint whirring of the motors of a camera. Irvine looked up, and nodded as he spotted a camera directly over the door. If it was set up without any lighting, that meant it was likely using an infrared beam to see in the darkness.

Judging by the way the tiny light on the camera moved, it was sweeping across the center of the chamber, and the doorway. Irvine reached up and quickly located the wiring for the machine. A simple cut with his scalpel disabled the infrared cam.

Privacy assured, Irvine looked back across the room. As he did so, he spotted what he guessed was some kind of lighting control on the wall near where he'd entered. Moving back across the room, the sharpshooter activated one of several switches, creating a dim glow. He made sure the door was closed, and left the other lights off, not wanting to draw attention, and looked back over the room.

His initial guess had been right: it was a combination of operating chamber and recovery room. Two operating bays could be seen, and beside them were a pair of separate rooms, all divided by partitions, much like the separate chambers in the infirmary at Garden. He could h ear the faint breathing of a sleeping person in one of the recovery rooms, and moved in the direction of the noise, cursing his feet as they slapped on the bare, cool tile floor. He glanced into the recovery room, and saw-

"Selphie!" Irvine gasped, and he stepped into the small room. Selphie lay on a bed, swathed in a blanket and strapped down securely. Biomonitors were connected to her wrists and temples, feeding into machinery which showed streams of incomprehensible gibberish and numbers. She was silent and deep asleep, judging by her breathing.

Irvine grasped her hand and put his other to her shoulder, shaking her. It took the sharpshooter a moment to feel her skin, which was surprisingly cold, as if she had been out in the Trabian plains for several hours.

"Selphie, wake up!" he hissed, but she didn't respond, except to continued breathing deeply. Irvine tried to rouse her a few more times, and then shook his head.

"No idea what they did to you," he hissed as he grabbed the straps, looking for a way to remove them. "But I'm not leaving you here, got me?"

He started fiddling with the medical straps, which were more complex than they initially looked, and then stopped as he heard a voice outside.

"Light's on in the operating room," remarked a familiar voice, and Irvine narrowed his eyes.

_Nash._

It was that damn doctor. The sharpshooter looked around the room, and spotted the camera. Maybe disabling it had set off a flag in their system? He'd have to be more careful. Quickly looking around the room, Irvine spotted another ventilation shaft, and quickly moved over to it. It was screwed in, but his pilfered scalpel worked well as a screwdriver. He quickly removed the two screws and started to pry the vent cover off.

The doorknob rattled as Nash started to open it. Irvine glanced back quickly as he removed the cover, and saw the door open. He leapt up, scrambling inside, but knew Nash would see him.

The doctor, however, looked at the other end of the room, away from Irvine, toward the operating bays and then at the light switch.

"Who left this on?" he mused, as Irvine managed to pull himself the rest of the way into the vent and out of sight. He twisted around and quickly refitted the cover into place as Nash crossed the room, moving toward Selphie's unconscious form. He paused over her, touched her arm, and nodded.

"Still adapting," he muttered to himself. "But she's moving far faster than any other subject. It must be the Guardian Force adaptation. If she's adapting this quickly . . . a SeeD highly experienced with GFs could adapt within minutes."

Nash glanced at the biomonitors, and then back at Selphie, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry they did this to you," he whispered. "So much has to be sacrificed to win this war . . . Rest now. Hopefully you won't be here long." With that, he moved back across the room, cut off the light, and disappeared.

Irvine waited in the vent shaft, watching Selphie's still form, and considered his next move. He couldn't get her out as he was; not with the equipment he had. He needed to be rational about this, but he also needed to move fast; it wouldn't take long for the Warden to discover he had escaped, and he still needed to find his mystery contact.

_A half-naked, unjunctioned SeeD with no weapons except a surgical scalpel, trapped inside an ultra-secure prison complex in the middle of Trabia, and I need to escape with Selphie, who's completely unconscious, and I need to get out before they discover I've escaped my cell._

Irvine snorted. Piece of cake.

* * *

-

* * *

Hoo bay. this isn't good. At least Irvine's escaped, but can he get Selphie out of Iceblood? And what of the Governor? What role will he play? 

The bloody stabbing kind, duh.:P

**Shout-Out Time!**

**OniRazz: **Gratz on graduation. Crell is more or less a bunch of megalomaniacal villians I've seen or read thrown together. Takke some mad insane dictator, make him look like Squall, and you've got Crell.

Ironically, on the one chapter you grill me on, its the one chapter I actually proofread :P

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Heh. I'm evil aren't i?

Flat feet is a condition where you have little or no arch in your feet. No arch means that your leg gets minimal support when you run, so when you do run, your leg is taking a lot of stress from the constant impacts with the ground. That results in stress fractures in your leg, which in turn is very painful. Eventually, yourshin snaps in half. Not pleasant. Also not good if you want to join the Marines.

That was my big shocker moment: "Squall, Rinoa is the traitor." "I see." POW! "No, bitch. YOU'RE the traitor!" XD

When Illarra mentioned sacrifice, its more of a figurative thing, like a family curse. Not necessarily genetic, but its something along the lines of bad luck during childbirth, so to speak.

**Platonic1:** When considering Squall's line, you have to keep in mind, he's three years later, and signifigantly more emotional, not to mention he's Gunblade Saga squall, so is a bit more loose. Not to mention he's pissed off at Crell for what he's done to him, and is excellent at inspiring his people, and thus knows what to say to get his people to fight.

As for Irvine and Selphie, give 'em a break. Its only been a day, and during that day they had to deal with rampant terrorism, and today, they've got a war on their hands. And as for Illarra, well, Martine was helping her escape. When a big head of a Garden is helping you escape, you tend to get away :P

**Chris Ganale:** I'm trying to come up with soemthing that isn't a Halo or Star Wars rip-off :P And damn straight, business is about to pick up!

**Solid Shark:** You ever leave a review without "interesting" somewhere in it:P And the SeeDs are getting a workout, trust me.

**Leonhartilly:** Well, there was plenty of Selphie and Irvine here! And a little bit of the Governor too!

**Eclipse Brooke:** Wow, thanks! I like it when people tell me they're inspired by my work! Inflates my ego majorly.

**Lionheart614:** About Alucard... I say nothing! Irvien and Selphie will likely link back up with Garden. Hopefully. Possibly. Its in the realm of potentially occurring.

**JadeAlmasy:** I'm dyslexic. Sometimes I hit the spacebar too quickly or lightly,andmywordsruntogether. :P

Yes, I loved writing Squall kicking Martine's ass! it was satisfying, because I'd known he was the traitor for a while,a nd wanted him to get his.

**Xephon:** Bingo. You don't know Squall. :P

**Tain Shari:** Hey! Stop giving me ideas when they may be better than mine:P

Yeah, the baby's death does have relation to the Chimera genes. Precisely what, heh heh heh...I'm not telling!

That little girl...there's a majorly big secret there. Though there are allowed to be mor ethan one Sorceress at once (e.g. Edea and Adel, for example) Veronica is an all-natural Sorceress, who wasn't created or anything. I'll also say that you are edging slightly along the right path, but only very slightly. Serra does have something to do with the Elemental Project, but what, I'm not saying. And you hit it on the nose when you were guessing where the research was taking place!

The Chimera...there's a big secret there too. I'll say this much: The Chimera _was_ human before. Now...well, your guess is as good as anyone else's. Heh. But you're right as to why Odine is involved: he knows a tremendous amount about GFs and Sorceresses.

You're hititng somethings corretcly, but others are way off. Still, I like hearing speculation. A lot is going to be revealed in Iceblood, I assure you. Like, say, what the heck that Griever vial is all about...

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** While Alucard isn't exactly behind everything, he is very important regarding the backstory, so to speak. He's had a hand in some pretty major events leading up to what happened in both Gunblade and Chimera.

There is one person who's related to someone else. Not in the manner that you're thinking, but they are related.I even threw out a tiny hint way back.

No idea. Where'd that come from:P

**JJ Firebrand05:** Yeah, it would make me die happy seeing this or any otherfanfic I writepublished.

Hey, if you have to use the enter key, blame the site, not me. Everything looks just fine on my word processor. :P

What? Hints? Come on, I'm giving out more hints than I know what to do with! I've released so many hints that I'm losing track of 'em:P At least, hints toward what really matters. And funny you speak of GFs, a few may be very, very prominent in the story.

Hee.bound and Unbound don't directly relate to the Chimera...or do they? Hm. What should I say here? You want me to say the Chimera is a GF?

No, he's not. Or at least, he wasn't. As for now...well, I'll reveal that when I get to it.

Is that all of my enraged,frustrated reviewers? Yep.Spiffy.

Until next chapter!


	15. XIV: Lines

****

Chapter 14: Lines

Squall didn't expect cheers from his people as they watched him. He knew he wasn't likely to get a standing ovation. However, as he looked over his people's faces, he did see what had hoped to instill.

There was a nod from one technician, the firm set of the jaw of a second. Another clenched his fists, not in anger, but in determination. All across the line of SeeDs facing him, Squall saw his people stand strong, and he knew that they would stand behind him.

"Intercom," Squall ordered after a moment, and one of the technicians hit the comms system. The speakers popped, and Squall cleared his throat.

"Attention, Balamb Garden," he called. He waited a moment for everyone within the building to focus on his voice. "This is Commander Leonhart. Most of you have probably been watching the broadcast, or listening to the radios. You know what was transmitted moments ago across all frequencies. Acting President Crell Varines of Esthar has made an open declaration of war . . . ." Squall hesitated, the words catching in his throat. All of Garden needed to hear this. They likely knew already.

"His war is against Rinoa Heartilly," Squall explained. "I know that . . . . Some things have been kept classified. Edea Kramer passed on her powers after she was defeated three years ago, and those powers were passed on to Rinoa. Without those powers, we would have very well lost later on against the remnants of Deling's regime in the Lunatic Pandora. Regardless of what you may hear, I want you to remember the war with Galbadia. She was with us there, fighting alongside us and saving the lives of you and your fellow soldiers and SeeDs. Rinoa is part of Garden, to the core."

Squall paused once more, letting the words sink in, and continued, a forceful, determined tone creeping into his voice.

"As far as I am concerned, Crell has declared war on Garden. I am not going to surrender, or back down. I have told the command staff, and I will tell all of Garden here and now: If this man wants a war . . . . He's going to _fucking_ get one.

"Any personnel who do not wish to be involved in this, for whatever reasons, please come to me. We will arrange for your release from Garden during the course of this conflict. As of this moment, Balamb Garden is going to full wartime alert. Take all necessary measures as appropriate." Squall nodded, and the intercom was cut off. He shook his head and turned away, before walking back across the room to where Laguna and Cid stood.

"So that's it, then?" Laguna asked as Squall returned. The SeeD Commander nodded.

"We're at war," he explained after a moment of thought. "The time for doubts is over. Its time to solidify our core and met them head-on."

"At war again," Cid commented, and shook his head. "Another tyrant decides to rear his head."

"Makes it easier to cut it off," Squall stated, and turned, looking back at the main screen as it showed status reports from all around Garden. "Still, we're in for one hell of a fight, I'm guessing."

"How many men do you have?" Laguna asked, and Squall shook his head.

"After Centra, we picked up a lot of new recruits," Squall explained. "We've got perhaps twice the manpower we had during the war with Galbadia. But that's including Galbadia Garden in that estimate, and we don't yet know where their loyalties lie . . . ."

Squall trailed off as he heard the door to the command center open, and glanced that way, to see Rinoa step into the room, looking around with wide, worried eyes. Squall was immediately struck by a wave of concern and surprise, having completely forgotten what it must have been like for her to hear Crell's declaration, especially with it being directed specifically at her. Squall quickly detached himself from Cid and Laguna and moved across the room toward her, but Rinoa spotted him and dashed over quickly, wrapping her arms around Squall before he could stop. He felt her hug him tightly, pulling him close, and he returned the sentiment.

"The broadcast," she whispered. "I heard it. Everyone did. The secret's out now . . . ."

"We knew it would happen some time," Squall responded. "Remember what I told you, okay? It doesn't matter what happens, Rinoa, I'm going to be here, with you."

"I know," she whispered. "But . . . I just didn't expect this so suddenly." She pulled back, and looked up at his face. "A war, all for my sake-"

"He's using you as an excuse," Squall answered, shaking his head. "That's all. He doesn't care about you or your powers. He just wants to conquer the world."

"You think that makes it any better?" Rinoa answered, and Squall was silent for a moment.

"What about Garden?" she continued. "We just fought a war with a Sorceress three years ago. I don't think anyone would forget that so easily."

"Sir?" Squall stopped his response to Rinoa before it even began, and glanced over his shoulder, to see one of the SeeD technicians standing behind him. More importantly, most of the other technicians and guards had assembled or were gathering around the one who had spoken.

"Yes?" Squall responded, and the SeeD hesitated, seeming to think over what he was about to say.

"Commander, when we were fighting against Galbadia and Sorceress Ultimecia, I was stationed in the Quad," the SeeD explained. "During the motorcycle attack, I was wounded pretty badly. Sword slice, right into my lung, grazed my heart. I would have died out there, but I didn't." He looked to Rinoa, and smiled. "Rinoa came out of nowhere and used a healing spell to stabilize me, sir. I owe my life to her. I don't care if she is a Sorceress; I'll give anything to pay her back for what she did."

"Damn straight," remarked another SeeD to the left of the first one. "I was in the Quad too. Rinoa was fighting with all of us, just as hard as any other person! She's part of Garden!"

"Sir," Added another SeeD, moving to the front. "You said it yourself. This isn't about Rinoa. This about Garden. Crell declared war on her, so he declared war on all of Garden."

"A lot of us don't care if Rinoa's a Sorceress or not," added yet another. "Garden takes care of its own!"

"If you're fighting for Rinoa, sir, Garden is with you," stated the first SeeD technician. "You're our Commander. We all remember Centra, sir. We all remember how you fought, and no SeeD would willingly turn his or her back on you."

"That bastard wants a war?" echoed one last SeeD from the back. "He's gonna fucking get one!"

At this, a resounding cheer sounded across the command deck as the SeeDs cried out in heartfelt agreement. Squall watched his soldiers declare their loyalty, honestly amazed by their positive response. He had been expecting some to remain loyal, and others to stand with him regardless, but had also anticipated that people within Garden would have been hostile, considering the news.

"Thank you . . . " Squall stated after the cheering died down.

"No need to thank us, sir," stated a SeeD. "We have to thank you, for everything you've done for Garden. We're in your debt. Heaven or hell, we'll fight for you and Garden, Commander."

"If that's the case," Squall stated after a moment, and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Let's get to work. This war isn't going to fight itself."

The crowd of SeeDs began to disperse at Squall's order, and as they neared their workstations, one of them paused, and then glanced up at Squall.

"Sir," she said, tapping her keyboard. "We've got an incoming transmission. Its from Galbadia Garden!"

"Patch it through to my office," Squall ordered, and glanced at Rinoa, then Laguna and Cid. "We should all have a look at this." They nodded, and started up to Squall's office. They entered his relatively sparse and utilitarian office and gathered around the desk as Squall lowered the privacy blinds and activated the flatscreen projector on the wall. A panel slid up, revealing the screen, and the image of a blonde man about a year older than Squall, clad in the uniform of a Galbadia Garden SeeD, and outfitted with a series of bars along his collar that indicated he was the ranking officer of his Garden (now that Martine was arrested, of course). Squall and Cid positioned themselves in front of the camera that would project information back to Galbadia Garden, while Laguna and Rinoa prudently moved out of sight until his motives had been confirmed.

"Commander, Headmaster," the man stated with a nod.

"Lieutenant Commander Kisk," Cid responded with a nod of his own. "This is a high-priority transmission. I something wrong?"

"Yes, Headmaster Kramer, there is," responded Kisk. "Galbadia Garden Intelligence has been receiving disturbing reports of terrorist activity around the globe. Naturally, we were conducting investigations into the matter." The Galbadia Garden SeeD tapped a control outside the view of his camera, and an image appeared on the screen, displaying what looked like the blasted ruins of some kind of prefabricated camp in a mountainous region. "We were coordinating with Dollet's own Security Agency in tracking down a terrorist cell behind the gas attack in the capital a few months ago. We tied the attack to a branch of extremist hardliners who were part of Sorceress Adel's regime when she ruled Esthar, operating in the Dollet mountains. A raid was carried out yesterday, during the assassination attempt, and among the items recovered from the terrorists' base camp were a series of data discs and documents hinting that someone within Garden may have been providing them with intelligence and information on their next attack."

"I'm guessing the assassination attempt yesterday was that attack?" Squall asked, and Kisk nodded.

"Naturally, Intelligence was highly disturbed by this, so we began our own covert investigation, without authorization from anyone. The information within the files we recovered was fairly specific, so we were able to rule out a lot of Galbadia Garden, but that left much of the command staff as possible suspects. We dug through files and utilized backdoors established a long time ago for internal investigations, and we quickly determined who the traitor was." Kisk paused, and took a deep breath.

"Headmaster Kramer, Commander Leonhart, I hate to say this, but Martine Cayes is the man responsible for the attacks yesterday."

"You're certain?" Cid asked, and Kisk nodded.

"I can upload the necessary files directly to your computers, if you need them. They confirm that he was complicit in the attacks, including direct correspondence with a woman named Illarra, who you arrested yesterday."

"I see," Squall answered after a moment. "Is anyone else within Galbadia Garden part of this plot?"

"Martine's files, including a personal journal, state clearly that he was acting alone," Kisk answered. "It seems like he was planning on taking over control of the entire Garden organization, and using that control to keep us out of the way of something he called 'the final war.'"

"Makes sense with Crell's declaration," Cid murmured. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. With that information,w e canr elax."

"Sir?"

"Martine Cayes was identified as a traitor less than half an hour ago," Squall explained. "Shortly before Crell's declaration. We have him in custody now. We were uncertain if Galbadia Garden itself was a part of the conspiracy, and are treating all personnel from it as suspicious. We can lower those restrictions now."

"Thank you, Commander," Kisk stated.

"Also," Cid added. "With Martine under arrest, we need a new Headmaster for your Garden. Headmaster Kisk, are you ready to lead Galbadia Garden until further notice?" The blonde man on the other end straightened up, and saluted.

"Of course, Headmaster Kramer," Kisk responded. "Thank you for trusting me in this matter."

"You should put your Garden under full alert, Headmaster," Squall explained. "We're at war with Esthar as of twenty minutes ago. They still have a naval presence around Fisherman's Horizon."

"I understand, Commander," Kisk answered. "But Crell is the lawful president of Esthar, and their leader was assassinated yesterday. Can we trust that his claim is innaccurate?"

At this, Laguna stepped forward, before anyone else could speak, and moved into view. Kisk's eyes immediately widened as he faced the true President of Esthar.

"Crell Varines is a member of a Neo-Adelist faction that is directly responsible for all the attacks that occurred yesterday, including the attempt on my life, Headmaster Kisk." Laguna shook his head. "He is not the lawful head of my country, and is in fact a human rights criminal who served under Adel Harbringer during her reign. He's a madman, a dictator, and he's going to conquer the world, and use Rinoa as an excuse to do it. We're going to put a stop to him."

Laguna glanced to Squall and Cid, and his stern expression shifted to a slightly uneasy, questioning one.

"Uhh, we are, aren't we?"

"Yes, Mister President," Cid answered with a chuckle. "We are."

"Galbadia Garden is at your command, Commander Leonhart," Kisk stated with a nod. "Give us your orders."

"As I said earlier, full alert," Squall stated. "Withdraw all personnel from Fisherman's Horizon ASAP. We're pulling out. The Estharian navy near here is too powerful, and even now may be en route to attack us. We can't wait around. Be prepared to leave the city within the next thirty minutes."

"It'll be done," Kisk answered. "Galbadia Garden will be standing by for further orders. Headmaster Kisk out."

"While we're on this note," Laguna added as Kisk's image vanished. "I'll check with Kiros and Ward about _Render_, see if they'll stick by us. They should, those boys have been with me since the revolution."

"Another Ragnarok wouldn't hurt," Squall commented, and Laguna nodded before leaving the room. Cid rubbed his chin for a moment as the President left the office, while Squall sat down for the first time he had in a while.

"We've got Galbadia Garden with us, and Trabia Garden will certainly fight by our side as well," Cid began. "But we don't have the manpower to match Esthar."

"What about Dollet and Galbadia?" Squall asked, and he glanced at Rinoa.

"My dad," Rinoa said with a firm nod. "He'll stand by us. But I'm not so sure about his people. They won't forget what Ultimecia did to them so easily."

"Duke Haroldington and General Randolph will not betray us," Cid added. "We can count on Dollet's support, at least."

"It still won't be enough," Squall remarked, and shook his head. "We'll need to end this war fast. I'd suggest something quick. A SeeD strike team to take out Crell in his base of operations."

"That would work," Cid stated. "But it would be an enormous challenge. We haven't operated inside Esthar since our first contract with them fifteen years ago."

"Maybe-" Squall's words were cut off as his intercom beeped. He flicked it on. "Leonhart."

"Squall!" came a shout, and the Commander stiffened as he recognized Xu's voice.

"What happened?" Squall asked.

"Its Illarra," Xu answered. "She's escaped from Interrogation One!"

* * *

Half the damn prison had to have heard him clambering about by now, Irvine thought to himself as he moved through the ventilation shaft. He wasn't exactly the most stealthy of SeeDs, and the tight confines, with the metal that seemed to ring and resound with every slight movement he made did not help with the sharpshooter's confidence that he was moving undetected. 

Nash had left the room, leaving Selphie alone in the operating bay. The damn doctor had done something to her, and Irvine wanted to know what the hell it was before he made his next move. Not to mention that Nash might know something useful about this prison, and the sharpshooter wanted to know what he knew.

Not to mention his response when I drop in with no clothes on and armed with a deadly inch-long blade . . . itshould be pretty funny.

It was easy enough to figure out where Nash was going. In fact, it had taken Irvine only a few moments to find out Nash was hanging suspiciously close to the lab where he was supposed to meet with his mystery helper. Irvine didn't believe in coincidences, and Nash just happening to show up in the lab when Irvine was escaping, right where they were supposed to meet, certainly seemed like one.

The weird doctor had kept the lights off, and was pacing around the lab slowly, pausing every time he passed the force shield containing those strange vials. Irvine waited in the vent directly overhead, watching him move around, and as the doctor passed beneath the vent, the SeeD moved.

As silently as he could manage, Irvine dropped feet first through the open grating, and landed behind Nash as he walked away from the vent. With two steps, Irvine was directly behind the man, and quickly snaked his arms around, one hand grabbing his chin and lifting it up, while the other poked the scalpel into Nash's neck.

"Howdy," Irvine whispered.

"You're late," Nash muttered, surprisingly relaxed. "Nice way to greet the guy who got you out of that prison cell."

"So it _was_ you," Irvine hissed, and slowly removed the scalpel, releasing the doctor. Nash turned around, and Irvine narrowed his eyes, still surprised by his shocking similarity to Squall. Nash seemed to search Irvine's features as well, for an odd moment, before nodding to himself.

"I knew you would manage to get out," the doctor stated. "Now that you're free, on to the next step."

"Next step?" Irvine echoed, and Nash nodded.

"You may not realize it, but things are going to get . . .explosive around here, soon," Nash began to explain. "Your arrival just happened to be the catalyst in this reaction."

"You mind acting like I don't know what the hell is going on?" Irvine demanded. "And while we're at it, what in the name of fucking pink polka-dotted _hell_ did you bastards do to Selphie?"

"Selphie," Nash said, nodding to himself. He glanced back at the operating room. "You were the one who was in there, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," Irvine said. "Now, what the hell happened to her? You said she had affinity for Guardian Forces, and that's why you and Odine needed her."

"Yes, she does," Nash said with a nod. "I . . . I am sorry that we did this to her. Odine wanted to test out the enhancement process on someone whose body was accustomed to Guardian Forces, and sadly, I needed her data to perfect the process itself."

"Yeah, remember that thing I said about pretending I don't know what's going on?" Irvine asked angrily. "Get back to it. What's going on here, and what the hell happened to her?"

"Okay, I'll explain it from the beginning," Nash said, and sighed. "This facility is under the control of a faction of Estharian citizens who were, up until twenty years ago, part of Adel Harbringer's regime."

"I know that much," Irvine said. "Your buddy in black gave me the orientation tour."

"Correct," Nash said with a nod. "However, the purpose behind this facility is unique. The Neo-Adelist faction that has seized control of Esthar's government is currently perfecting what they consider to be the newest, most revolutionary addition to warfare the world has ever seen: artificially produced Sorceress power."

"Artificial Sorceresses?" Irvine echoed, eyes widening. The notion of one Sorceress was bad enough. But if that was applied to an entire army . . . .

"Needless to say, such an advancement would alter the course of warfare forever. Adel was performing such research when she was controlling Esthar, but the process was never completed. After Esthar was taken over by Laguna Loire, Major Virago continued the research on her behalf. Unfortunately, his research was put to an abrupt end fifteen years ago when Garden's first class of SeeDs was contracted by Esthar to destroy their facilities. It set them back by a decade.

"Research was moved hereto Iceblood Prison, where the development process stagnated. The best that they could produce was imperfect being infused with some magical energy that made them stronger and tougher. Somewhat like SeeDs, actually, though these creatures lost their sanity. Fortunately, by this time Major Virago had aligned himself with a Sorceress named Veronica Anderson. You've met her."

"Yeah," Irvine responded darkly, nodding.

"Veronica could control them with her magic, and used them as guards for the prison," Nash continued. "But research continued to make little advancement, until _she_ arrived."

"She?" Irvine asked, and Nash nodded.

"And Unbound Guardian Force," Nash explained. "I don't know why, but she appeared and revealed the final secrets of creating individuals that were beyond the human norm." Nash glanced to the vials on the wall. "Those are the keys. The essence contained within the stones that Balamb Garden uses to junction Guardian Forces. Direct injection of these contents confers upon the patient a deep, resonant connection with the Guardian Force in question. Injection transforms the individual from a human being into what we have called an Elemental, a person able to wield magic and elemental power as if they were a Sorceress . . . Though the power is limited only to the sphere of control of that particular Guardian Force."

Nash turned back to Irvine, and sighed regretfully.

"Selphie has been injected with a vial containing a Shiva stone's essence. She has already undergone the Elemental process and soon she should be waking up with that power."

Irvine listened, trying to wrap his head around the concept, and finally surged forward, grabbing Nash by the front of his coat in fury.

"You turned her into one of those _things?_" he snarled.

"She will retain her sentience and intelligence," Nash explained quickly. "As I said, the creatures you have already fought are imperfect. She is a perfect Elemental. She is still the same woman you know and care for, but now has a different perspective on life."

"Fucking hell," Irvine growled, and released the doctor. "Is there any way to change her back?"

"If I knew, I would do it," Nash stated. "I don't want her to suffer anymore than you do. Information obtained in these experiments has allowed the faction to produce soldiers who are faster and stronger than the human norm, and able to regenerate physical damage, while retaining their sentience and without putting them through the entire Elemental process. You have already encountered these men."

"Those soldiers in the castle's basement," Irvine muttered, and glared at Nash.

"Virago will have created a full battalion of them by now," he explained. "And judging by what I have heard, a war is brewing in which they will be the centerpiece of his army. Those Elementals are as strong as a Balamb Garden SeeD. No regular military will be able to stand up to them, back by unlimited Estharian military technology and manpower."

"This guy is in command of Esthar?" Irvine asked, and Nash nodded.

"Laguna Loire was supposedly assassinated, and the Wiseman's Council has been destroyed," he explained. "He has seized control of Esthar under the pretense of preventing another Sorceress war, and he intends to conquer the planet using Esthar's armies and these Elementals. And there are only two ways of stopping him."

"Those being?" Irvine asked.

"The first is pure, complete Elementals," Nash explained. "Virago's Elemental battalion consists entirely of men enhanced through magical injections based on the Guardian Force research done here. Its cheaper and more economical to use regular magic instead of an actual Guardian Force. However, those who are injected with Guardian Force essences are vastly more powerful than they are. To the lesser Elementals, they are as SeeDs against normal men."

"And the second method?"

"Destroying the Elemental essence within them," Nash stated. He paused for a moment, and then gestured toward the door. "Come. I must show you the Prototype."

Nash moved toward the door, and Irvine followed hesitantly. The doctor opened the portal, and looked outside, before nodding. He waved Irvine out into the hallway, and they quickly moved out into the silent facility. Nash made his way down the hall toward another doorway, this one heavy and reinforced. He entered a code into a keypad and the door slid open, allowing them entrance into another laboratory, this one a vast chamber. At the far en was a large dome-like structure with a single pressure sealed door on it, marked by a square window, from which emerged a glowing blue light, the only illumination in the chamber.

"This, Irvine, is the Prototype," Nash explained. "The first purified, true Elemental." They crossed the room toward the dome, and Irvine looked inside. His eyes widened as he saw what was inside.

Glowing blue light filled the dome, and within was a pale, naked figure, floating into the chamber, curled into a fetal position. He could only see the figure's face from a profile, but that, along with the black hair and the strangely familiar features, was all he needed to see.

"Serra?"

* * *

"Just got off the horn with _Render's_ crew," Laguna said as he came back into Squall's office. "We've got a second airship on our side. Those guys are loyal entirely to Kiros, Ward, and me. Also got word that some of our fighter squadrons are none too happy with what's happening, especially those that fought against the Galbadians at the Lunatic Pandora. There's rumors that they're leaving the country, and bringing their planes and support crews with them."

"That's some good news," Cid answered with a nod. "Well have a decent air force, but still nothing capable of matching up evenly with Esthar's air fleet."

"Still, it's a start. Hopefully we'll get Galbadia and Dollet in on this and their air forces can back ours up." Laguna paused, glancing around the room. "Hey, uh, where's Squall?"

* * *

Martine Cayes gagged as Squall lifted him up in the air, fist closed around his throat. 

"Where the _fuck_ is she?" he snarled, blue eyes blazing with fury.

"She's gone . . . ." Martine wheezed. The older man clutched futilely at his neck as Squall stood there, unmoving, lifting the larger figure off the deck. Surrounding them in the hallway outside Interrogation One were a dozen Garden Security officers, but none of them wanted anything to do with the interrogation. Even Xu was hanging back.

"I let her men take her out of here . . . ." Martine continued.

"You murdered a SeeD, and you betrayed Garden!" Squall growled, tightening his grip. "Tell me where the hell she went, or I _will_ gut you right now."

To accentuate his point, Squall drew his gunblade and pressed the tip of Lionheart against Martine's stomach. The treacherous Headmaster's eyes widened.

"Trabia!" he gasped. "The closest secure base is . . . In Trabia!"

"Where?" Squall demanded. He pressed the blade into the man's stomach, unyielding anger and contempt clear in his expression. Martine only had to stare into the SeeD Commander's eyes to be able to tell that Squall would not hesitate to do exactly as he had said, so full of fury and hatred he was.

"The prison!" Martine said. "The secret prison at Iceblood!"

Squall released Martine, and the man fell to the floor, coughing. Squall towered over him, and slowly returned Lionheart to its sheathe.

"Get this piece of shit traitor out of here," he snarled as he turned away. Garden Security hoisted Martine up and started to haul him off.

"I've . . . Never seen an interrogation like that one," Xu remarked as Squall marched back toward the elevator.

"I'm not letting Illarra get away," he stated firmly as he boarded the elevator, Xu following him. "She's too dangerous, and this is too personal."

"Don't let your feelings cloud your judgment," Xu remarked, and Squall nodded after a second. The elevator continued to rise up toward the command deck, and Squall stepped out. Xu was right behind him, clearing the doors an instant before it all went to hell.

He felt the impact more than heard in, and Squall was sent off his feet as all of Garden shook, the entire structure pitching forward a few meters. He scrambled back up to his feet, and glanced back, to see Xu doing the same, and the Commander lurched forward, rushing out onto the command deck. He pushed open the doors, and was greeted by blazing klaxons and shouts from all around the command deck. The first words he heard clearly were an urgent order from the center of the command deck.

"Nida, get us the hell out of port now before they fire another salvo!"

Quistis was in the middle of the deck, shouting orders at the top of her lungs as Cid and Laguna rushed down the steps leading from Squall's office. The Commander felt a strong arm steady him, and glanced to his left to see Zell standing beside him, helping Squall stand.

"What the hell's happening?" Squall demanded.

"Estharian navy!" Zell shouted. "They just fired on us!"

"Main screen!" Quistis shouted. "Tactical, how many are there?"

"Four destroyers, two cruisers, and a battleship, ma'am!" shouted a technician as the main screen shifted to show a map of the ocean around Fisherman's Horizon, and a tight battlegroup of Estharian warships to the east, about fifteen miles out.

"What did they hit us with?" Quistis demanded.

"Magnetic accelerator cannon!" answered another technician. "Glancing blow, no serious damage. Bounced off the hull armor on the second level. No injuries reported."

The Garden lurched slightly, and the buildings outside began to drop away from the window as Garden pulled out of port.

"It takes fifteen seconds for those cannons to reload, and thirty to recharge!" Laguna called as he rushed out onto the command deck. "Only that battleship has a cannonpowerful enough to hit us at that distance."

"Nida, you heard the man!" Quistis ordered. "Get us out of here at flank speed before they can fire a second salvo!" She paused as Squall moved across the room, Zell right behind him, and stood beside her.

"Esthar just took a potshot at us," Squall commented. "Right?"

"Looks like they were trying to take us out with a long range strike," she responded. "Hit us before we knew they were there."

"Estharian battleship is firing!" shouted the tactical officer.

"All personnel, brace yourselves!" Squall ordered. An instant later, a massive slug rocketed past, the shockwave of air from its passing causing the chamber to shudder.

"They're desperate to hit us," Laguna commented. "At this range those cannons would miss a mid-sized city."

"We're moving outat flank speed!" Nida called from up above.

"Communications, get in touch with Galbadia Garden," Squall ordered. "Tell them to break away from FH before the rest of that battlegroup comes within range! Send out messages to _Render_ and _Ragnarok_ as well,have them take off and escort our Gardens."

"Aye, Commander!" responded the technician in question. "Messages away!"

"Are we out of effective range?" Quistis asked Laguna, and the President nodded.

"Like I said, they can't hit us at these ranges," he stated, and his words were followed by another shout of "Incoming fire!" A heavy metal slug flew past, ripping through the air, but missed Balamb Garden completely, splashing out into the ocean nearly a quarter of a mile away.

"Like I said." Laguna repeated.

"Estharian ships closing after us at flanks speed," reported another technician. "Looks like . . . .they're a bit faster than us. Galbadia Garden has left port at Fisherman's Horizon and is moving to follow us. I've got _Render_ and _Ragnarok _in the air, following behind us as well."

"How good is that anti-air phalanx on those ships?" Cid asked Laguna, who shook his head.

"Good enough that something big like a Ragnarok would get shot down in a few seconds," Laguna replied.

"No air strike options, then," Squall muttered.

"Galbadia Garden is following right behind us, sir," called the tactical technician. "Looks like the Estharians are laying off the long-range bombardment and are trying to close in on us."

"Makes sense," Quistis commented. "Garden doesn't mount any naval weaponry. If they can get close enough to us to use plasma cannons and shoot their magnetic cannons more accurately, we'll be dust."

"And they're faster than us, too," Zell added. "Squall, man, I just _know_ this is going to be ugly. If they catch up to us, those guns will blast us to pieces."

"Our best chance is to use either the Salamanders to launch a quick naval attack, or to turn the Gardens around and meet them head on at full speed," Squall mused.

"The Salamanders would be cut apart by those ships long before they got close enough to do any damage," Laguna stated, shaking his head. "And if Garden rushes them head on, it'll give them all the broadsides they need. By the time we'd get within range to board those ships, there won't be anyone left to make a boarding attempt."

"Looks like we're in a lot more trouble than I thought," Squall said, shaking his head. He closed his eyes, and considered their options. Right now, they were sailing west, but the Estharians would eventually catch them and pound the Gardens to death at range with their weapons. Without naval guns of their own, the Gardens were just giant targets. Nothing they had could get past the enemy defenses . . . .

"Contacts!" shouted the tactical officer. "I have contacts directly ahead of us, closing at flank speed. I'm reading twelve, seventeen, twenty nine, fifty-two . . . Holy shit, eighty-six warships, ranging from escort corvettes to aircraft carriers, directly in our path!"

Squall looked up, face going pale.

"Estharians?" They had set up an ambush?

"Open transmission across all channels!" called the communications officer.

"Put it on," Quistis ordered, and the main screen shifted, showing a man in his mid-sixties, wearing a brown and green naval uniform adorned with oak leaves and golden stars. Squall frowned as he recognized the uniform and insignia. The man was a Fleet Admiral, but not Estharian.

"Attention Estharian battlegroup," the man stated. "This is Fleet Admiral Harper of the Seventh Fleet of the Dollet Navy. You are intruding on waters under the protection of the Dollet Dukedom. Turn your ships around now."

The screen was split in half as a second image appeared, showing an equally aged face of a man in blue and white robes, bearing the insignia of an Estharian Captain.

"This is Captain Ejern of the Estharian Navy. We are currently in pursuit of Garden on grounds of harboring Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly. I'm sure your Dukedom has received President Varines' declaration of war against her. Allow us to seize her and those protecting her."

"Sorry, Captain," Harper stated with a smile. "Last time I checked, the Dukedom didn't bow down to the wishes of any dictator, Estharian or otherwise. Pull your ships out now or my entire fleet will sink your entire battlegroup."

"If you stand in our way, Admiral," Ejern snarled. "Your nation will be complicit in aiding the Sorceress' escape and will thus this will be considered an act of war. Is your nation aware of this?"

"My orders come from the Duke and the Parliament," Harper stated. "We are to protect our waters from violent Estharian aggression and to ensure that Garden has free passage through our waters."

"If that is the case-" Ejern began to say, but then, the screen was split into three portions as _another_ face appeared. At that same instant, the tactical officer sat up straight.

"Forty-seven addition contacts coming into radar range, directly to the north of us, bearing toward the Estharian battlegroup!"

"I wonder who this is?" Cid asked with a chuckle as the third man cleared his throat, clad in a light blue naval uniform with bars and golden stars on both his collar and hat.

"Estharian battlegroup, this is Admiral Edwards of the Galbadian Navy, Fourth Echelon of the Third Fleet. Desist in your pursuit of Balamb and Galbadia Gardens now, and leave Dollet's waters, or we will open fire."

"Admiral Edwards, you know what this means," snarled Captain Ejern.

"Galbadia was ruled by two dictators, and we feared a third," Edwards declared. "President Caraway has decided that we won't knuckle down under one of Adel's lapdogs."

"How _dare you-_"

"All ships of the Seventh Fleet, stand by to fire," stated Harper calmly.

"Fourth Echelon, prepare to fire," Edwards called.

"This means war!" Rjern protested. "Your nations are serving the Sorceress! You armies and navies will be crushed under our might if you stand in our way!"

"Be that as if may, Captain," Harper said with a shrug and a smile. "It won't be today. You've got over a hundred and twenty Galbadian and Dollet warships pointing guns at you. Go home. You don't need to die today."

Ejern paused, and glanced to his left, before nodding.

"Very well . . .you leave me no choice."The Captainnarrowed his eyes. "Cannons, fire on Balamb Garden!"

"Fourth Echelon, open fire!"

"Seventh Fleet, fire all weapons!"

"Missiles launching from Galbadian and Dollet ships!" the tactical officer shouted. "Magnetic cannons firing at us!"

"All hands, brace yourselves! Nida, evasive maneuvers!" Squall declared. The Garden lurched aside suddenly, and two slugs rocketed past the command deck, one passing close enough that the shockwave sent hairline cracks through the glass. The Garden shook as a round hit the rear of the structure.

"Damage report!" Squall shouted.

"Deflected off the rear stabilizer!" the operations officer shouted. "Minor damage to steering controls. No injuries!"

"The Estharians?" Squall demanded, and the tactical officer gulped. The image of Captain Ejern, in the chaos, had faded into static, and a moment later images from the rear cameras of Balamb Garden appeared.

The Estharian battlegroup was nothing but smoking ruins, leaking blue-white flames as hundreds of missiles were still streaking in, blasting apart what little remained of their hulls. The ocean soon swallowed up the destroyed vessels.

"Balamb Garden, are you damaged?" Harper asked, and Squall nodded to the comms officer, who opened a channel.

"Negative Admiral," he called. "Nothing serious. Thanks for the thimely rescue."

"Our pleasure," Edwards responded. "You know, I thinkPresident Caraway and Duke Haroldingtonforgot to mention that the Dukedom and Galbadia signed a alliance treaty shortly before the conference, just to make sure all the differences were aired out. We _were_ going to mention it at the conference, but it looks like we never got around to it."

"Good thing you did," Cid stated. "I guess this means your governments have drawn the lines?"

"Dollet fought with Garden before," Harper stated with a wide smile. "We won't back out now."

"And as far as Galbadia is concerned," Edwards continued. "That declaration was just a dirty lie against its President's daughterto justify a war of aggression."

"Welcome aboard, gentlemen," Cid stated. "Somehow, this war just seemed to become a whole lot easier."

* * *

-

* * *

Agh. That one took me a little while to write. Igot kind of burnt-outfor a bit there. But no fear! I'm back in action! 

Ah, yes. I loved this chapter. was a lot of fun to write, especially as the very beginnings of the Elemental Project are beginning to be revealed. Plus, there was pissed-off Jack Bauer Squall!

Anyway. Shout outs. No bold, no italics, nothing. Just because.

**Onirazz:** That line was very deliberate. I'd like to think that is the Governor ran into Sephiroth, he'd beat that shiny-haired puke's ass.

And yes, someone will have one beastly awakening, heh. Wait until you see who!

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** I can get around it through a medical review board. Actually, flat feet occur quite bit, and with proper insoles, you can get around them.

Oh, yes, why is Nash sympathetic toward Selphie? And Irvine for that matter? I'd explain it, but I'm mean and Nash is one bigplot twist that I'm never revealing until the time is right.

And if sephiroth heard seifer say that line, he'd try tocut up Seifer, who would beat the shit out of Sephiroth in a few seconds.

**Solid Shark:** Oh, yes. At least now all the prisoners are going to start escaping soon, heh. And Lusankya is a big inspiration for Iceblood too.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Well, the reason why Irvine didn't juction them is threefold: One: Duh. He can't junction them because they aren't really GF stones. Two: He doesn't junction GFs or use magic, because he's Irvine, and he's too awesome for that. Three: Even if he wanted to junction them, he can't because he doesn't know how to. :P

Nope, never played Xenosaga.

Another Head Villian? Sigh. Where's my Ewok gun?

**Tain Shairi:** Yes, Nash was the one who freed Irvine. Precisely who and what Nash is, and what his agenda is, I'm not telling. Heehee.

**JJ Firebrand05:** Yeah, GF experiements are playing a big part in this. Granted, they aren't the whole of the Elemental project, and you will be shocked when you find out whateverything involving this project is about.

Rinoa and the Governor's dream? Well, I will say that Rinoa had a part in it...

Now, now, I'm not going to throw hints about Serra, but I will say that Ifrit has been injected into somebody. Who? Nope, not telling!

Ultimecia, part of the Elemental Project? . . . . no comment. And yes, you can use Bound and Unbound if you want. Just give credit where credit is due for the idea :P (and so more people can read me, heh)

**Kolostramin Indincranin:** You're smart. You're not making speculation, as my ideas are too crazy to guess :P And yeah, you were dead on that injecting people with GFs alters them. After all, how do you think Malachi came into being?

**Leonhartilly:** Yeah, Nash looks a lot like Squall. Here's a slight hint: of all the Squall look-a-likes, he's the closest to Squall's actual appearance . . . or shouldI say, Squall is the closest look-a-like to Nash... Oh, my, what did I just say?

That sound you're hearing is my maniacal laughter. :P

**JadeAlmasy:** Irvine? Having it easy? no way. I just got done torturing Squall, darn it, I need someone else to torture until I go back to Squall.

**Khimarigirl: **Hope this chapter answered some questions...and made a few new ones, too!

**Chris Ganale:** Add some Revolver Ocelot to that mix and yeah, you're pretty close to my image of the Warden. And don't worry, he'll meet a bloody end.

**Angel of Apocalypse:** Wow. Saying you've never read anything like this is saying something to me. Continue with the praise, it makes me laugh manically and puffs up my ego more and more. Thanks!

**Elachim:** The reference to Squall's enemies comes from...erk, somewhere,I don't know XD

I'll come up with more R-names ships sooner or later!

Laguna wasn't calling Ward "uncle," he was shouting "uncle" as in "I give up! I give up!" because he was getting bearhugged.

Aha! You caught who I was basing Crell's speech off of! Yeah, Crell is a bit like Arcturus Mengsk from Starcraft.

Yes.I am just getting started. I haven't even started dropping the mindfuck bombs yet with this story.

No, when I wrote "prodigal talents" I meant "prodigal talents." :P Prodigal as in prodigy. He has a prodigy's talents, basically.

The White Robes' bursting into flamesand the vapors are actually something else entirely. You'll see what soon enough. I will say that the Robes' exploding has to do with them being "imperfect" Elementals, however. And yep, part of the reason Inamed it Iceblood was,w ell, Selphie gets icy blood, literally.

Yep. Irvine's torture was Han and Metal Gear Solid inspired.

Okay, that all of it? Spiffy. Now, listen as I laugh maniacally at my excessively vague hints! Bwahahahahahaaaaaa!

Till next chapter.


	16. XV: Directional

_**Chapter 15: Directional**_

"What the hell is going on?" Irvine muttered, turning toward Nash, eyes wide. The sharpshooter was having to say that a lot lately, and requiring those words was seriously getting on his nerves.

"Serra," Nash answered with a nod. "The Prototype for the Elemental Project. She is the Alpha.." He turned back toward the door and peered into the window. "The first pure, sentient Elemental we created. A near-perfect life-form, a combination of magic and the strongest and most effective human genes, raised from birth. She is, without question, the ultimate creation of this project. Literally no other Elemental can come close; even pure ones such as Selphie are but pale shadows compared to what she can do . . . ."

"Why?" Irvine demanded, and Nash sighed. He turned back to the sharpshooter, expression filled with sorrow, regret, and a surprising degree of anger.

"To perfect the project's output, Odine needed to create an Elemental of immense power. We needed a pure, unblemished and undamaged subject. Serra was the best candidate, and she was given her injections at an extremely young age . . . . Two years and one month ago, to be exact, when she was still an unborn child."

"Two years," Irvine said, not believing what Nash had just told him, and he glanced back at the girl within the dome. "She can't be that young . . . She's got to be my age!"

"The Elemental process aged her at a tremendous rate," Nash replied. "And the rapid growth with Elemental powers gave her unprecedented capability. She tries to suppress it, but it's there, buried deep within her. An untapped potential of unimaginable power."

Nash strode across the room, and touched a panel o a desk. A glowing light appeared, and Irvine took his eyes away from Serra's still, curled form, to see a humanoid mannequin set up near the dome. Upon the mannequin was what looked like a very lightweight suit of armor, constructed of steel-blue threads of material. It consisted of what looked like a thick metallic that wrapped around the head, which connected to a column of plates that supposedly ran down the wearer's backbone. Serrated, chitinous blue plates started at shoulder-level and ran down to the elbow, where slender delicate gauntlets covered the forearms, wrists and fingers. Slender cords and delicate plates of metal closed over the torso, and plates covered what would be the thighs, along with grieves protecting the legs, all of it constructed of the same delicate metal.

"Requiem," Nash stated calmly as he looked over the armor. "Designed exclusively for use by Elementals. The armor is made so that only individuals who utilize elemental energy as they can wear and activate it."

"What does it do?" Irvine asked, circling around the device.

"It enhances the ability to call forth magical power by a significant degree, but its true power is to amplify the Elemental's speed, strength, and ability to withstand pain," Nash continued. "It also is capable of regenerating physical wounds by a substantial degree and has the capacity to act as a fully functional life support system in the event of fatal injuries. Furthermore, it enables the wearer to influence the minds of any Elemental it comes into contact with, excepting those who are pure. However, the design is . . . Flawed."

"That sounds like a good thing," Irvine muttered.

"Requiem's internal computers are inextricably linked with its wearer's mental processes," Nash stated. "Because of its design, however, Requiem seems to amplify base, negative emotions within its wearer. Fury, hatred, sadness, grief, jealousy, and the like are all enhanced, and can take almost take over the host's mind. In our tests, with regular Elemental soldiers, they rapidly became violent and destructive, and eventually we had to euthanize them before they could cause substantial destruction."

"Yeah, sounds like a nasty flaw," Irvine said with a nod. His hands grasped the air for a moment, as if trying to hold a weapon. "Mind if I add a few more?"

"The Warden would notice if we ruined his prized armor," Nash responded with a shake of his head. "Not to mention the armor is made of some of the toughest metals we can synthesize. No normal weapon can damage it. Only magic and energy have been noted to damage it, and those only barely."

Irvine snorted.

"Okay, next question. Why do you need Serra for this thing?" Irvine asked.

"The armor was built originally based on the newborn Serra's data. However, that data is incompatible with an adult's information. We didn't realize that until after we made the armor based on her specifications . . . And that was after the Prototype was supposed to have been disposed of." Nash shook his head. "I had just joined the project as an outside scientist, and I was unable to grasp the barbarity of Virago or Odine's intentions. I refused to allow them to kill a newborn child, and I hid her away in a forgotten village far from here. It took over a year for these bastards to figure out that Serra was alive and that her data could be used to perfect the Requiem. Now that she's been captured, its only a matter of time before the armor is perfected and the wearer retains their sanity."

Nash narrowed his eyes as he stared at the armor.

"I can't let that happen," he whispered, and looked to Irvine. "And as fate would have it, when we captured Serra, you two came here as well. I'll need your help if I'm going to stop this project in its tracks."

"Hold it," Irvine said, raising a hand to stop Nash. "First you inject Selphie with that shit, and now you ask me to help you destroy this base? Are you nuts? Why should I help you?"

"You're a half-naked, unjunctioned SeeD armed with a surgical scalpel in the middle of an ultra-secure prison in the middle of Trabia, and you have to escape with an unconscious comrade, and escape before they discover you've broken free," Nash explained. "You'll need some help."

"Right," Irvine said, nodding. "I forgot about that part. But still . . . Why me, and why inject Selphie?"

"She's the first,' Nash explained. "I hope to get those vials of Guardian Force essences to Garden before it is too late, so that the SeeDs can utilize them to enhance their physical capabilities. Even a dozen pure Elementals would be enough to allow an army to stop Crell's Elemental battalion in its tracks. You have to understand, Irvine . . . There's no _way_ that this madman's army can be defeated, not with the full military might of Esthar backing his Elemental forces."

"But Selphie . . . ." Irvine clenched his fists in anger as he looked down to the floor. _His_ Selphie, being turned into something inhuman . . . .

"I'm sorry, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure you escape from here to warn Garden about the enemy," Nash explained. "And I promise you, I _will _find a way to reverse the process, no matter how long it takes, once this war ends. But whether Selphie was forced into this or not . . . We need her now, and with the information I've gotten from how quickly she is adapting, I know SeeD can quickly utilize the vials and put an end to the war. It's the only way."

"No," Irvine answered, looking up. "You said there was another way."

"Yes," Nash answered and hesitated. "But I am hesitant to use it."

"What?" Irvine asked, and Nash nodded toward Serra's prison.

"Serra. Her body, judging by the readings I've gathered from her, is as close to perfect as an Elemental gets. The purified nature of her being is a weapon in and of itself. Merely being in close proximity with an impure Elemental is devastating to the creature. For the incomplete things you fought outside, her body literally annihilates them by being too close, causing them to combust. For normal Elementals, those without Guardian Forces but retaining their sentience, she drains their inhuman essence from them and reduces them to trembling human beings. She also drains magical energy in her proximity as well. Has your magic been weakened after meeting with her?

"Yeah," Irvine answered, nodding. "Neither Selphie nor Victor's magic worked very well outside. Serra stole those powers from us?" Nash nodded.

"Serra can level the playing field by merely walking among the enemy, and in combat . . . I suspect nothing, human, SeeD, or Elemental, can stand against her."

"She can fight?" Irvine mused, and Nash shrugged.

"Her _body_ can fight," he answered. "Serra's Elemental aspect consists of two Guardian Forces, one good, one evil. Odine wanted to test out the interaction within her mind and body. They both remain dormant, but given the proper provocation, one can rise up and attack targets or defend her against harm. I suspect in a combat situation, her Guardians will be more active. But to tell the truth, I have no idea what will happen."

Nash walked over to the dome and looked inside, and then circled around it. Irvine followed, and saw Nash stop next to a holographic panel. The scientist waved his hand over it, and then hit some keys.

"Twenty-four hours," he muttered. "That's all the time this will take for the energy in her containment field to be siphoned off just enough to let her get free."

"You're letting her go?" Irvine asked, and Nash chuckled.

"Twenty four hours from now, when that field is weak enough that she can break free . . . ." He pointed at the ceiling. "Anyone left in this prison will be _dead._"

Nash paused for a moment, and a strange smile cut across his features.

"Either that, or they'll wish that they were," the scientist finished. "Come on, Irvine. Let's get your girl out of this mess. Then, there's a man down in the Undercity I'm sure you'd like to meet."

* * *

The old, beat-up Centran technology that had powered Garden three years ago was functional, but it paled in comparison to the advanced engines that Esthar had developed, base doff the old Centran designs. After the war, and the defeat of Ultimecia, Garden had shared a cozy relationship with Laguna Loire's Esthar, and the President had made certain that the Centran machinery had been replaced with up-to-date Estharian tech. Thus, it was less thanthree hoursafter the destruction of the Estharian battle group that Garden, with a hundred warships as escort, arrived in port at Dollet. 

"Good to be back in safe harbor," Zell commented as he stood on one of the piers branching out from the docks. SeeDs and cadets walked past them, taking shore leave as Squall had ordered.

"We're only here for supplies, and to meet with the General," Quistis replied. "We need to plan out our next move."

"Trabia," Squall grunted as he walked past them.

"Huh?" Zell said, confused, and Squall turned around, shaking his head.

"Crell wants to take out Garden . . . and his first target will be Trabia Garden," Squall explained. "It's the easiest target he has available, and well within striking distance. We need to move fast, before his army gets there."

"Right!" Zell said with a nod. "Let's get moving!"

"Garden won't have enough troops to stop all of Esthar," Quistis said, and Squall nodded.

"That's why we need help," he stated. "Dollet and Galbadia are already at war with Esthar now. That should be all the troops we need."

"I'll go see about arranging a meeting with General Randolph," Quistis said, and the two men nodded as she moved off. Zell glanced at Squall, and crossed his arms.

"Hey, man, I was talking with Rinoa earlier today," the brawler said. "We've got an idea."

"What is it?" the Commander asked.

"Okay, she was looking up information on this 'Alucard' guy. Not much was coming up, but when she mentioned it to me, I remembered hearing something about the Estharian Bureau poking around for the same thing."

"We won't be getting much help from the Bureau now," Squall commented dryly, and Zell nodded.

"But that got me thinking," Zell continued. "I wonder if someone else may have intel on this guy? Maybe Garden Intelligence, or Galbadia or Dollet knows something. That kind of information isn't in the main library, after all. Of course, I'd need authorization to do a search through intel records."

"It'll be done," Squall replied with a nod. "See what you can dig up. I get the feeling that the more we know about this man, the better our chances of surviving will be."

"Thanks, Squall!" Zell said with a grin. "I'll get on it!" The brawler hurried back toward Garden. Squall watched him leave for a moment, and then turned back around, moving toward the city. He abruptly stopped when a figure stood in his way, and for an instant Squall almost drew his gunblade, but stood down.

"If you wanted to know, you could have just asked," Alucard said, an enigmatic smile on his face. Squall opened his mouth, and then shook his head. It was always this way, wasn't it?

"Okay, fine," Squall muttered. "You seem to know everything that's going on, don't you? Why don't you tell us the whole truth?"

"If I knew everything, I could meddle far more effectively," Alucard answered, chuckling. "I've determined useful information, but I haven't learned all I require. There are still very many pieces of information that have yet to be uncovered."

"Still," Squall responded, shaking his head. "You know more than we do."

"Not necessarily," Alucard replied, shaking his head. "I know a few things, but what _is_ relevant people within your organization already know. I've told Quistis something most interesting, but she hasn't had a chance to tell you yet. Perhaps you should ask her first. Until then . . . ." the strange man turned away.

"Hold it," Squall growled, and Alucard paused, looking back. Squall had his hand on his gunblade, and it seemed Alucard could read his intentions. After a moment, he chuckled again, and turned back to face Squall. An instant later, the passing SeeDs and Dollet citizens simply stopped in mid-motion. Alucard calmly cracked his knuckles as the temporal nullification field took effect, and held up a hand, raising a trio of fingers.

"Three passes," he said, smiling. "That's all I think I'll ask of you."

"Fine," Squall replied, and swiftly drew Lionheart from its sheath. "If I win, you tell me something more useful than vague hints. Deal?"

"Agreed," Alucard replied. He strode forward calmly, arms at his side, but Squall knew instinctively that his opponent was quite prepared for battle. The stranger paused just outside Squall's reach with his gunblade, and raised a hand, putting his thumb and index finger together. The SeeD cocked his head to the side in confusion, and then Alucard snapped his fingers.

And in that instant, he was flickering through the air, appearing beside Squall, then vanishing and shooting past the SeeD. Squall whirled immediately, keeping his foe in front of him as Alucard came back, and the SeeD ducked as he caught a flicker of motion aimed at his head. A fist cut past Squall's face, and he spun, chopping across with his gunblade. He heard a grunt, followed by a laugh as Alucard moved past him, and Squall turned again, slashing low.

Alucard came in for another pass, and materialized behind the gunblade's cut, spinning around into a lazy yet powerful backhand that clubbed Squall across the face. The figure spun around, coming up into a high, spinning kick, but Squall was already falling back and away, ducking low beneath the foot. Lionheart shot up in a hard slash, but Alucard faded away in a heartbeat and reappeared behind Squall, swooping in for a low punch at the SeeD's gut.

Squall came around, acting entirely on instinct, and smacked the flat of his gunblade down on Alucard's extended arm. The arm shot down toward the ground, and Squall's left hand flew across, balling into a fist, and slamming into the side of Alucard's face. He fell back, head snapping to the side, and then disappeared once again, before reappearing a few steps away, outside Squall's range.

"Brilliant," he whispered, rubbing his jaw. "Absolutely brilliant. Even when I punched you, you turned the impact into advantage and nearly cut me in two. You really are his descendant."

"His descendant?" Squall muttered as the people around him began to move again. Alucard nodded calmly as Squall put away his gunblade before anyone noticed.

"The Chimera's blood runs freely through your veins, and it is a magnificent thing, Squall Leonhart," Alucard said. "Your family history certainly shows . . . Though one would never guess, judging by your mother's outlook and temperament."

"My mother," Squall said, narrowing his eyes. "Raine . . . ."

"Looking at her, one would never guess that she was one of thethe children of Centra's greatest and deadliest soldier. Quite fascinating. You really should look into your family . . . And if there's anyone who knows about that subject, it would be Illarra."

Alucard looked up at the sky and then back to Squall, and smiled again.

"It's a beautiful day, Commander," he stated calmly. "You should enjoy it before Trabia calls."

Squall looked up at the sky as well, and toward the slowly setting sun, and then back to Alucard as the man departed down the pier, rapidly vanishing amid the people milling about.

_Trabia. Everything's going to go down out there. I wonder-_

Squall paused, suddenly remembering.

_Shit, Irvine and Selphie are out there! Are they safe from Esthar in Trabia?_

Squall shook his head after a few moments. Of course they were safe. Esthar didn't care about a couple of wandering SeeDs. Besides, he reminded himself, they probably heard about the war declaration right after it was broadcast. They probably retreated back to safety as soon as they had gotten the message. He would have to check with Trabia Garden to ensure they had arrived safely back at the Garden.

* * *

_Interesting . . . ._

The voice that spoke was soft, elegant, and warm, almost motherly.

_What?_

_I've never connected to a mortal like this before. I've been junctioned, certainly, but to connect so intimately is unheard of . . . Though Ifrit has spoken of a connection like this one._

_Who are you? Shiva?_

There was a faint laughter, and the mental equivalent of a nod, which she was somehow able to perceive.

_Yes, I am what you call Shiva. The Guardian of frost and cold. I'm sure you have questions to ask me. You're starting to regain consciousness now, I suppose, if we can communicate._

_What happened to me?_

_Mortals have brought us closer together than thought possible. I am integrated into your blood and am becoming connected to your very essence._

_What does that mean?_

_You are becoming part of me, and can channel my energies almost as effectively as I can myself. Which is saying quite a bit, considering I hold total dominion over cold and ice._

There was a momentary pause in the conversation.

_You should be waking soon. You may soon need to make use of what you have possession of now. Call upon my aid as needed._

There was sudden pressure on her hands, and some noises pounding in her ears. Blurry whiteness filled the empty void that she had existed within moments before, and light cut into her eyes as she opened them, to find herself staring up at a face that, for an instant, was filled only with concern, and then quickly shifted to a relieved smile.

"Selphie," Irvine gasped, laughing quietly.

"Irvine," she responded softly. There was a sudden rush of excitement and hope, but her weak voice did little to convey it as the sharpshooter quickly hooked his arms under her body and lifted her up off the bed. She could tell he was still missing his clothes, but he was clearly free, and as she looked into his eyes, Selphie realized she was safe with him.

"You're cold," he muttered as he cradled her in surprisingly strong hands. Irvine glanced to the side. "Is she supposed to be that way?"

"Her body is adapting," came a familiar voice on the other side of the bed, and Selphie turned her head weakly, and saw the familiar brown-haired man who had injected her with the Shiva essence. His blue eyes met her green ones, and Selphie could tell instantly that he was deeply sorry for what had happened to her. She managed a weak nod, reassuring him that she wasn't angry with Nash, and the man visibly slumped in relief.

"Are we going to get out of here?" she asked as she felt her strength steadily return. Irvine nodded quickly.

"Yeah, we just have to get you out of here first," he replied. "Nash is going to get our gear back, too. Once that happens, we'll head for the Undercity, and meet with someone he calls the 'Governor.'" Irvine looked back at Nash. "Right?"

"Yeah," Nash replied. "The Governor and I have been planning things for a while, now. We've even had him scare some guards senseless and tell them he wants me dead to cover up the real plan. Your gear is locked in a security locker down the hall, but I can get it open. Wait here."

Irvine cradled Selphie securely in his arms as Nash movedout of the medical bay,leaving the pair alone.

"How are you feeling?" Irvine asked her, and she managed a slight chuckle.

"Weak," she said. "But I'm getting stronger now. I was scared for a while, but now I'm fine." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling tighter to the sharpshooter. "I feel warm and safe with you now."

Irvine managed an ironic laugh, as Selphie's skin was still cold to the touch against his bare torso. Even so, he felt far better now that he was holding her securely in his arms. Irvine was surprised at how much he had missed Selphie's presence while they had been separated, though it was only for a brief while. It felt like he hadn't held her in a lifetime.

"Just like Rinoa," Selphie murmured, and managed a chuckle. Irvine blinked at the odd statement.

"Huh?" he asked, and she smiled.

"No, I was just thinking of what Rinoa said to me one time," she explained. "When she was coming back down to the planet on the Ragnarok, Squall was holding her, kind of like you're holding me." Selphie pulled tighter against Irvine, surprising him. "She said . . . In his arms, she felt so comfortable, and so safe, like nothing could hurt her. I understand what she meant now."

Irvine didn't say anything immediately, still surprised at the comparison.

_Jeez, I am acting kind of like Squall did, now, aren't I?_

He was actually even more surprised at how similar Selphie and Rinoa's situations were. Not entirely certain what to say, Irvine finally tightened his own hug around her, cradling Selphie more closely to his own body.

_I'm not letting you get taken away from me again, okay? I promise you that, Selphie. I don't care what I'm up against . . . I'm not leaving your side. You're not a Sorceress, and I'm certainly no Knight, but . . . ._

"I'm not going anywhere," Irvine whispered.

"I know you won't," she answered, and pulled back a little bit, looking up into his eyes.

There was a moment, a shared exchange of desires, between the pair. In three years, the two had been the staunchest of comrades and closest of friends. There was no question that there existed a mutual attraction between them, but neither of the pair had yet to really act on it. There was some uncertainty between them, a natural hesitation and a desire to analyze and confirm.

Friends? Clearly. Inseparable? Certainly. But was there something more between them?

When Irvine brushed his warm lips with Selphie's chilled ones, both of them knew, without question, that the answer was _yes._

"I don't mean to be rude," came a quiet voice, and both SeeDs looked up in surprise at Nash as he entered the medical room, a heavy duffel bag in hand. "Not surprised, though." He tossed the duffel casually at Irvine's feet. The sharpshooter glanced at Selphie.

"Can you stand?"

"Let me see," she responded, and Irvine gently set her down. Her feet touched the bare floor, and he gently eased her full weight onto her feet. Within a few moments, Selphie was standing, and managed a nod.

"Very good," Nash remarked, and glanced back outside. "Your full strength should return very soon. In the meantime, you two should arm yourselves, obviously." The pair quickly got their gear together, Selphie grabbing her nunchaku and donning her boots and bracelet, while Irvine quickly donned his vest and the white winter coat he had worn outside. The guards had been kind enough to keep all of his weapons together, and the sharpshooter wasted no time wrapping the webbing and belts around his body, securing all of his guns and ammunition. Finally, he donned his hat.

"I knew something didn't seem right," Selphie quipped, and he chuckled. She stretched out for a moment, and then hopped between her feet for a moment, and then nodded.

"Let's rock," Irvine said, drawing his pistols.

* * *

Despite Dollet's remarkably verbose titles, the country's bureaucracy was surprisingly streamlined and efficient. It took Squall less than twenty minutes to secure a meeting with Duke Haroldington and General Randolph in the Dollet Warfare Command Tower, the rather ironic name for a two-story high structure that was mostly underground, buried into the cliffs just beyond the city limits. 

The conference was small; the only people present beyond Squall, the Duke, and Randolph were Laguna, Cid, Quistis, and President Caraway, on a video monitor on the wall overlooking the secure conference room.

"The situation isn't good," Squall was explaining, hands clasped on the oak table that dominated the center of the secured chamber. "Trabia Garden is well within striking range. If Crell wants to hurt the alliance against him, its an obvious target that he can hit quickly and with minimal risk."

"Our airborne spy drones have confirmed this," Caraway added over the monitor. "There is a division-sized Estharian force assembling near the Trabia Crater. They are well within striking distance of Trabia Garden."

"How long would your military need to reach the Garden?" General Randolph asked Laguna, who shook his head.

"From the crater. A division-sized force . . . Overland, four days. But if they have air support for transportation, we're looking at less than twenty-four hours. And I can bet that Crell will want Trabia Garden gone as soon as possible."

"Can we get reinforcements there in time?" Cid asked, and the Duke shook his head.

"If I could, I'd deploy every soldier in Dollet to help you," the Duke stated bluntly. "But there's the issue of getting our men there fast enough to make a difference."

"Our fastest transport planes can drop a large force at Trabia Garden in thirty-six hours," Randolph stated. "I can have the 125th and a half dozen other battalions onboard planes and there in a day and a half, but that's half a day too late for Trabia."

"The situation is the same here," Caraway added. "My Galbadian Rangers can get to Trabia inside thirty-six hours, with full mechanized support and artillery, but by then it'll be too late. Unless your people can hold them back."

"A division-sized Estharian force would crush Trabia Garden's defenses with minimal effort," Quistis said grimly. "We have only a few hundred SeeDs and cadets there. Even with their skills in magic, they have no chance to hold out against a large Estharian army."

"I'm not going to just write Trabia Garden off," Squall said, shaking his head resolutely. "There has to be some way to get help to them."

"Even if we deployed every ready soldier to defend Trabia Garden, it won't make a difference," Randolph stated. "The Estharian army is too numerous and too-well equipped. We cannot hold a fixed position, especially one so far away."

"What about the drive system?" Caraway asked. "Trabia Garden should be equipped with the same system that Balamb and Galbadia Garden uses."

"Right!" Cid said, nodding, surprised he'd forgotten that option. "If we activate the drive system, we can evacuate the entire Garden!"

"Even if we do, the Garden will be chased down by Estharian aircraft and warships," Quistis added. "Plus, Trabia Garden's basement is buried under the permafrost. It'll take time to get a team down to the drive system to get it operational."

"What we need is something to slow down the enemy advance," Laguna said, thinking. "If we can keep the enemy from advancing long enough to deploy reinforcements to Trabia Garden, and activate the drive system, we can get the whole structure out of there."

"We don't have anything fast enough to get troops there," Randolph repeated.

"Yes we do," Laguna replied, looking up. "The Ragnarok and Render can get to Trabia fast enough to beat Crell's army!"

"But they can carry only so many men," Quistis interjected. "We'd deploy, at best, a few hundred troops, who'll be up against an entire Estharian division."

"Sounds like a job for SeeD," Squall stated. "A few hundred SeeDs can slow down the enemy advance, at least enough so that Dollet and Galbadian reinforcements can arrive, or until we can get Trabia Garden flying."

"Get that Garden to the ocean, and the Dollet and Galbadian Navies ca protect it," Randolph added. "This could work . . . But the SeeDs will be badly outnumbered."

"Nothing we can't handle," Squall stated, standing. "Just get your people moving, and be ready to back up our advance force as soon as you can."

"Will do, Commander," Randolph said as everyone rose, and Caraway's screen went dark. "The 125th will be airborne within the hour."

A few moments later, the Garden contingent was leaving the meeting room and heading back outside the Command Tower. They advanced down a long corridor of steel and concrete, with Dollet guards quickly saluting the trio, and they giving salutes back.

Quistis began to trail behind a bit, and Squall glanced back at her. She paused in mid-step.

"Squall, I need to tell you something," she stated quietly, and he stopped as well. Cid glanced back at them, but Squall waved his hand.

"This will just be a second," Quistis told the Headmaster before Squall could say anything, and Cid nodded, moving off down the hall.

"What is it?" Squall asked, and Quistis took a moment before speaking.

"Earlier today, before you spoke with her, Alucard interrogated Illarra," she explained. "He asked me to help him, and I figured this would help us as well, so I agreed."

Squall didn't respond verbally, but simply nodded. Quistis relaxed slightly; he wasn't angry o annoyed that she had gone behind his back and done this.

"I'm not sure what he did," she continued. "All I know is that he pulled a single word from her, and he told me that this one ward was all he needed. He didn't want to say what it was to me, because he was uncertain how it would effect Garden, and the course of events."

"What was it?" Squall asked.

"The word . . . was Iceblood," she stated quietly. "He said that it would define everything. I know Illarra escaped to Iceblood, but I don't think that's everything. In fact, from what he said, Iceblood may hold the key to everything in this war."

"I see," Squall mused, nodding. "If that's the case, we'll need to follow up on this." He looked away for a moment.

"We can't launch an attack on the prison," Quistis said quickly, shaking her head. "We don't even know where it is, and Trabia Garden needs protection. We don't have the troops to spare."

"I know," Squall answered, thinking. "What we really would need is a small team to locate the prison and get inside. Look around, see what's going on, and report back."

"Whoever it is needs to be very good," Quistis replied, running a potential list of candidates through her mind. "The team will need to be small enough to move undetected, but still . . . They'll likely be dropped into an area where the Estharian army is moving. Can we ask anyone to take that risk?"

"A lot of SeeDs would volunteer on the spot," Squall replied, shaking his head. "No. We don't have anyone good enough to risk dropping into such a hostile environment. I'd prefer to minimize how many people go in, but I can't ask anyone to go in alone. Not against a division-sized Estharian force."

"Someone needs to get into that prison, though," Quistis answered, and Squall nodded.

"I know who can get in there," he replied. "The person best qualified to infiltrate the prison and get back out."

"Who?" Quistis asked, and a very faint smile crossed Squall's features as his face hardened with determination.

"Me.

* * *

-

* * *

Okay, done. I think I'm getting to the end of the dialogue-heavy chapters of this part of the story. Very soon, we're going to see a LOT of action, and a tremendous amount of plot develoment. There are a lot of what I like to call "Mindfuck Bombs" waiting to be dropped :P 

**The Crazy Spiffy Caffine-FreeShout-Outs!**

**Daniel Wesley Rydell: **Okay, fine. Ruin my fun :P Iceblood was partially inspired by Ysanne Isard, main villian of the Star Wars X-Wing book series, who otherwise went by the name "Iceheart."

DO THE MAMBO!

**Chris Ganale:** Funny you mention white suits of full body armor. I mean, you don't go into Trabia wearing bright blue or green uniforms... :P

**Leonhartilly:** Over here in the States, the season is already over :P Good season, not quite as shocking as the second or first ones, but better than the third.

**Platonic1:** Hey, I don't mind if I don't get reviews. I like reviews, though, so give them if you have time.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Normal Seifer v s. Sephiroth, Seifer loses. Now, the Governor against Sephiroth...heh, Seph better run and hide. Governor Seifer is hardcore.

Heh. Look, Alucard did make an appearance, whaddya know!

Yes. I loved writing Squall pissed off XD

I'm fucking with your head. Or then again, maybe I'm not. You'll eventually see what the heck I'm talking about sooner or later :P Trust me, you will be surprised. I explained the whole thing to my editor, and his response was ";; my head exploded..." Nash, Crell, and Illarra's appearances are actually all natural, though Illarra used slight physical surgery to alter her eye colors to match Squall's.

Thanks. I thought my idea was kinda cliche'd, turning Selphie into something more than human.

**OniRazz:** Yeah, Irvine was acting like Solid Snake, though it was more of his constant questions as opposed to his stealthy-ness :P

**Solid Shark:** You want a bit of a clue as to what happens next? Remember The Empire Strikes Back and Hoth? Yeah. Hee.

**Angel of Apocalypse:** I love ending my chapters in suspenseful or on dramatic notes. Kinda like this one.

**JadeAlmasy:** Part of the reason Squall (erronously) thought Garden would turn on him is because Rinoa is a Sorceress. But obviously, that doesn't matter to them, heh.

Yeah, I love it when I have Squall act like a badass. Where's Squall? Choking the fuck out of that traitorMartine, that's where!

Well, Irvien won't stay in Iceblood forever. Within the next few chapters there'll be an escape attempt, I will admit that. And poor guy. hekeeps getting abused, I know :P

**Red Eyed Divine Dragoon: **Hm. Let's see, at least three or four more chapters for the Iceblood Trabia Battle arc, then a couple of transitionary chapters where heads explode from story revelations, and then a few more chapters...I'll say we're looking at at least a dozen more chapters before the end.

**Tain Shairi:** Yeah, someone needs to arm Garden you know. I can imagine a fully-equipped and armed Garden war machine.

**JJFirebrand05:** Bah. I really should spot these typos, but I never do. Hmph.

Yes. The people who look like Squall all have Chimera Blood. That means Squall, Crell, Illarra, Nash, and . . . whoops, almost let that one slip, heh. And the Chimera is exactly what Alucard and Illarra explained: Centra's supersoldier, a legendary warrior with genetic and magical treatments that makes him the ultimate soldier.

You know what? I almost forgot about Edea there! I need to put her in this story too.

Well, the navies made open broadcasts because they did want everyone to know their intentions, and making encrypted broadacts is kind of pointless if you want to talk to the enemy in the first place. :P

GF action? Well, wait and see, heh.

**Cloudfightback:** Gee, all that to point out a tiny mistake:P

**Wolf of Light:** Heh. Funny you mention The Omega. This may have some superficial similarities to The Omega, but trust me, it will go off on its own soon enough. As for Alucard . . . I say nothing! Haha!

**Kimahrigirl:** Bah. Plenty of Seifer next chapter. Along with Solid Snake/Sam Fisher Squall!

**Johnny:** Don't worry: this crazy fic will be seen through to the end.

**Spikestrife:** Wow. That's a compliment :P And thanks for telling me that this is unique! I get worried I rip off other people sometimes.

Yeah, I didn't waste any time capturing Rinoa :P

Agreed on Squall's temper. He's cool and thoughtful, but at the same time he can become incredibly emotional and explosive at the drop of a hat. Later on, he's going to become more severe in that department, and for a veyr, very good reason.

Yes. Repeating that line is intentional. Its kind of a Garden rallying cry to get behind Squall and fight Crell.

Well, here's your update. Hopefully, now that we're edging into the more action-oriented and fast-paced chapters, things will get much better when it comes to me updating.

That everyone? Spiffy.

Till next chapter!


	17. XVI: Government

_**Chapter 16: Government**_

_It ended about as well as expected,_ Illarra Varines, daughter of the new President of Esthar and the man who had just gone to war with the entire planet, thought to herself as she stepped off the Corsair aerial transport and onto the icy stones of Veronica Anderson's castle retreat deep within Trabia.

Her escort had, at Martine's direction, taken her outside of Balamb Garden by covert access ways and to a small launch that had been quietly positioned on the ocean's surface. From there, Illarra had ridden out to one of the frigates in the battle group that was to sink Balamb Garden, and had commandeered their Corsair transport for her own transit to Iceblood Prison, where the next part of the grand plan was underway.

Or at least, the next part of _her_ plan.

Iceblood had seen an infusion of new troops recently, because of her father's plans to assault Trabia Garden as soon as the war had begun. The forward mechanized units had arrived there less than an hour ago, and she was unsurprised to see the man leading them.

"They told us you were coming," Major Eric Malachi said as she walked into the castle's front entrance. "Good to see you made it out."

"And good to see your troops are ready to attack on a moment's notice," Illarra answered coolly, and the Major stiffened. While Malachi's statement that he was glad she had survived sounded harmless enough, Illarra knew what motivated his words. Deep down, hidden inside the burly, scarred soldier's heart, probably in a place where even he denied it, Malachi had a thing for her. Not that he let those feelings in any way affect his judgment or actions. They only rarely manifested themselves in the occasional concerned comment directed at her, which she always brushed off. Illarra had neither time nor inclination to indulge in a relationship at this point . . . not while that bastard Leonhart was still alive.

Malachi fell into step beside her as she walked down the castle's halls.

"Crell said he'd prefer it if you went with the main advance against Trabia Garden," the Major stated. "And I agree with him. We should expect SeeD to intercept our assault forces before we reach Trabia Garden, and Galbadia and Dollet will be sending reinforcements too. Leonhart can be expected to be with them."

"Obviously," Illarra replied. "But there's something here I need to take care of first."

"That being?" Malachi asked, and she looked at him giving the scarred soldier a cool smile.

"Purification," she answered and the man's eyes widened, a rare show of emotion from the cold soldier.

"I see," he answered after a moment.

"What?" she asked. "Are you . . . envious?"

"Someone had to test out the Elemental mass-production treatments," Malachi replied, puffing out his chest. "I had to be the first to volunteer. I'm not unhappy at all that I am an incomplete Elemental . . . not that President Varines will approve of anyone in his command becoming a completeone in the first place." The last bit was spoken as a bit of a warning, and Illarra narrowed her eyes at Malachi.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No," Malachi replied. "I'm sure that even if I wanted to prevent you from doing what you suggest, I couldn't stop you."

"I thought your loyalty was to Crell and his ideals," Illarra replied, turning away and walking down the hallway. Malachi fell into step right behind her.

"Make no mistake, it is," he stated calmly. "But I just believe that we shouldn't simply toss aside the opportunity to create pure Elementals, simply because your father is afraid that they outclass his regular Elemental soldiers."

"He fears dissention in his own ranks," Illarra replied as they neared the main hall. "Wise, considering how fractured the Adelist movement is. But still, he can allow those who are most loyal to him the opportunity . . .and I want to show him what value a pure Elemental possesses."

She opened the doors into the main hall, and walked out into the magnificent chamber. Illarra looked over it, scowling at the collection of white-robed, painted figures, arrayed in tight lines and formations before her. At the head of the collection of white-robed warriors stood the familiar green-and-purple-clad Sorceress, Veronica.

"What do you think?" the Sorceress asked, smiling as she gestured to her minions. "Battle-ready at this very moment, and unlike human soldiers, they never tire and can move as fast on open terrain as our regular vehicles. They'll make perfect shock troops."

"Perfect cannon fodder for SeeD guns and magic, more like it," Illarra replied, and Veronica chuckled.

"I'm missing two columns," she added sadly. "Those SeeDs did a number on my minions . . . but I can always make more from the prisoners in Iceblood."

"Yes, you do that," Illarra added. _I would call you a crazy bitch, but I already fill that role in our little band here, don't I?_

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet with the Warden," Illarra continued, and before Veronica could speak, she pushed past her and into the ranks of the white-robed freaks. The Sorceress watched her pass, and then shrugged, before turning back to her minions. With a single uttered command, the white-robed troops moved off, marching out of the castle . . .and to war.

* * *

"So, the plan here is that we get to the Undercity . . . and wait?" 

Irvine peeked out the door into the hallway as Selphie was speaking. The hallway was clear, and he moved out, the others following him, continuing to speak quietly.

"Yes, pretty much," Nash replied. "Once the containment field around Serra weakens sufficiently, she'll awaken, and in a hostile environment, her darker side will probably emerge first. If not, it won't take long. Once that happens, she'll start causing widespread destruction and occupy the guards' attention. While they're distracted, we lead the prisoners in the Undercity and storm Lockout and the labs, free the other captives, and escape."

"And what will keep Serra from killing us?" Selphie asked, and Nash shrugged as they moved down the corridor.

"Me."

Irvine paused a short distance before they reached an intersection, and looked back at Nash.

"You?" Irvine asked, a bit disbelieving. "How can you stop Serra once she goes out of control?"

"I have my ways," Nash replied with a slight grin. He nodded toward Selphie. "I hope you can help me when the time comes. I'd need another Elemental's help to stop her." Selphie nodded after a moment.

"I'll do my best," she replied. "I'm still not sure how to control myself yet."

"It'll come naturally after a while," Nash replied. "Trust me. I've seen the power of an Elemental in action personally. Pretty soon you'll be able to use Shiva's powers like an extension of your own body." Nash looked over his shoulder, back down the corridor. "We should get moving. I don't want the Warden to find out you've escaped."

"Too late!"

Both the SeeDs and the scientist froze in place as they heard the voice, and Nash quickly stepped to the front of the group as the familiar back-clad, smilingly insane face of the Warden rounded the corner up ahead, trailed by a full platoon of red and blue armored Estharian military police. The soldiers quickly blocked the intersection, rifles and axes at the ready. The Warden looked over them, then fixed his eyes on Nash in particular.

"Nash, I knew it!" the Warden seemed to squeal angrily, jabbing a finger haphazardly at the scientist. "I knew you were a traitor this whole time! I never trusted you!"

"Yes you did," Nash responded calmly. "You let me conduct the most secret research at this installation alongside Odine. If you didn't trust me, you wouldn't have let me be the head scientist on the Elemental Project."

"Oh, be quiet!" the Warden fumed angrily. "Okay, so I trusted you a bit more than I should have. But that changes now! This ends here! We're at war right now, and Trabia Garden will be crushed by the end of the day beneath Esthar's might!"

"What!" Selphie exclaimed, and the Warden turned his attention to her, sneering.

"Yes, my dear little test subject," the Warden continued. "Trabia Garden is the first target on President Crell's list of bugs he wishes to squash. He's got his army moving there right now, and there's nothing SeeD or any of the other pathetic western nations can do about it! But none of you are going to live to see that Garden fall." The Warden raised a hand, and the contingent of soldiers behind him raised their weapons.

"Guards! Execute the traitor and the SeeD," the Warden commanded. "And dispose of the test subject. She was useful while she existed, but not anymore. Can't let a pure Elemental be running around, after all."

The soldiers behind the Warden moved forward, and Irvine quickly drew and leveled two of his pistols at them, sighting a pair of opponents. However, he held his fire as Nash began laughing quietly.

"Hey, Warden," he called, and held up a hand. "One question for you."

"I suppose I can divulge one final answer before your inevitable deaths," the Warden replied, raising a finger. The advancing soldiers stopped in their tracks.

"I was just wondering," Nash said, slowly clenching his raised hand. "Did you ever find out what happened to that vial of Ifrit essence we lost?"

"No," the Warden replied with a shrug. "I had the guard on duty that day horribly executed for his inability to keep important lab materials secured, so I never did figure out what happened to it."

The Warden's ever-present grin suddenly shifted to a shocked expression as a torrent of fire erupted around Nash's clenched hand. The scientist's own grin widened as the flames spread, becoming a fiery aura surrounding his body.

"You . . . ." the Warden stammered in shock.

"Yeah, it was me," Nash replied, and the intensity of the fires wreathing his body grew stronger, but didn't even singe his clothing. He slowly spread his legs into a combat ready stance. "I'm an Elemental, just like Selphie. Come on, Warden. You ready to face the _real_ results of all your wonderful research?"

The Warden backed away, moving into the crowd of soldiers behind him, and raised a trembling finger.

"Kill him! Kill them all! Get the Elemental unit down here! _Kill them!_"

The head of the soldier next to the Warden snapped backward, blood fountaining from his faceplate as Irvine fired a precision shot into his forehead. The Warden cried out in terror and fled into the crowd as the platoon of soldiers surged forward, the lead troops closing with Nash despite the fires the engulfed his body. Two fell as Irvine dropped them with a quick pair of shots, but another pair neared Nash.

The scientist pointed a hand at the pair, almost lazily, and a torrent of fire erupted from his hands, instantly engulfing the two fanatical soldiers. They stopped in mid-stride, crying out in agony, and more soldiers rushed around them, brandishing plasma rifles and shotaxes and roaring challenges. Several closed in with Nash, while others rushed down the corridor at Irvine and Selphie.

The sharpshooter quickly drilled a pair of shots into each of the foes advancing on him, puncturing their throats, and whirled, firing on the soldiers attacking Selphie. One spun around as his bullets caught the man, but the second drew close to the tiny SeeD, who instantly snapped out her nunchaku. The iron bar slammed into the man's forehead, and snapped his head backward, pulverizing his neck and sending his head out at a sickening angle. Selphie blinked in shock at the power behind the hit; she had never been that strong, even with junctions. She had no time to consider the situation, however, as another group of Estharians leveled plasma rifles at her and opened fire, blue light slashing toward her.

Nash faced off against three foes, but did not seem perturbed in the slightest, and for two very good reasons, both of which were nowsmoldering ash piles behind their charging comrades. He took a step back almost lazily as one of the MPs took a swipe at him, and then the scientist stepped forward with a right cross that trailed blazing fire. The flaming fist smashed the soldier across his faceplate, and the man was sent hurtling backward, his head bursting into a pyrotechnical display of light. Nash ducked low, fires wreathing his body again as the Estharians hacked at him, and snapped the fingers of his other hand. One of the two men attacking him simply erupted into flames, and the scientist snapped his left hand up and caught the chopping axe of the third soldier. He spun around into a kick that took the man in the chest, and at the instant of impact, a fireball exploded against the soldier's chest, instantly turning his torso to char and floating ash, which was cast over the men right behind him.

"Come on, assholes!" he shouted, as more Estharians advanced fearlessly, and gestured with his right hand, launching a discus of flame that melted a foe's armor and set him ablaze.

Plasma stuttered at Irvine, and he dove low tot he ground, flying forward as he emptied his pistols at his attackers. Two Estharians fell to tightly clustered rounds that penetrated their chest armor, and the sharpshooter cast his spent pistols aside, and drew both heavy revolvers against his chest. He came up in a roll as plasma cut past him, and fired a quick barrage, sending another foe spinning to the floor, and spun aside as more Estharians pumped fire at him. Flaring energy cut past his white coat as it flew out wide, and Irvine threw himself on his back, firing as he did so. Another enemy soldier fell, leaving only another pair as he dropped the spent revolvers and grabbed the MP5Ks belted to his waist. He pulled them up out of their holsters, raised them slightly as his back hit the floor, and fired both guns at his foes. Ten rounds from both weapons later, both Estharians were down.

Energy flew at Selphie, and she reflexively raised her hands, casting a spell out of pure instinct. However, instead of a warding Protect spell, however, a wall of ice formed directly in front of her, catching a dozen plasma bolts. She blinked, and then suddenly smiled. With a single mental command, the ice shattered and sharpened into a hail of icy spears, which she sent flying down the corridor at her enemies. The Estharians had only an instant to gape before they were shredded by over twenty frozen blades.

A cyclone of flame whirled around Nash as he dove into a half-dozen soldiers, who fell back, but not before half of them were caught in the flames and set ablaze, screaming as Nash's fires ate them alive. The scientist dismissed the flames and leapt into the midst of the remaining three soldiers, leading with a low sweep that took one man down, and rising up into an uppercut chased by raging fire, that cut into one man's gut and immolated the man. Nash spun around, his other hand launching a torrent of fire over the third soldier, blasting him into char and ash, and as the last man tried to stand, Nash quickly grabbed him and hurled him against the corridor walls, hard enough to shatter the MP's skull and crack the concrete.

Thirty seconds, and the entire platoon was dead, shot, skewered, bludgeoned, or burnt to death.

"Holy shit," Irvine gaped, shocked at the corpses in front of him. While he was used to the presence of piles of enemy bodies while he was among his comrades, he wasn't used to the victory against so many foes to have come so effortlessly. He looked at Nash with newfound respect as the fires around the scientist faded away. It was as if he had been playing with the enemy, not actually fighting them.

"We have to hurry," Nash stated, shaking his head. "The Warden won't wait long to sound the-"

A blazing klaxon sounded across the prison, and Nash looked up.

"-alarm. Let's move!"

"Good idea," Selphie added, and Nash turned, leading them down the corridor at a full run. He paused only long enough to look quickly down the other path, before rushing on at full speed down the passage.

* * *

Ragnarok's troop bay was filled to capacity. A hundred SeeDs were gathered in the main bay, along with an equal number in the secondary hangars and passenger compartments. It was a bit tight, but the SeeDs, especially those who had been with Garden in the days before the final battle with Edea and Galbadia Garden three years ago, were accustomed to the cramped conditions. 

The two hundred SeeDs were rapidly donning coats, fitting body armor to their chests, arms, and legs, and donning helmets. Others checked their weapons or focused, junctioning their magic and preparing themselves for battle. They had already been briefed: Esthar's advancing mechanized columns would be practically right on top of their landing zone, and they'd have less than a few minutes to form up and intercept the enemy. They would need to be in perfect fighting condition to get the drop on the enemy, especially considering they were badly outnumbered. The two Ragnarok airships carrying the four hundred SeeD combat force had left the Dollet and Galbadian cargo planes behind several hours ago; it would be a while before any substantial reinforcements arrived to defend Trabia Garden. The SeeDs were going to be isolated.

"Five from drop!" called Mike from the cockpit of the Ragnarok, and Squall finished tightening the straps of the goggles that would slide over his eyes. The white and gray camouflaged ninja mask that went over his face was already in place, and the rest of the camouflage uniform, consisting of white coat, gloves, trousers, and boots, was already donned. Squall turned back to Rinoa, who was dressed in a similar outfit, but instead wore a white helmet instead of a mask.

"How do I look?" Squall asked, smiling faintly under the mask.

"I'd prefer it if you were wearing armor," Rinoa commented, tapping the front of his chest. Squall shrugged, as he felt her fingers hit the thick, warm coat and the conspicious lack of body armor underneath. Squall had made it a rule that all SeeDs wear armor in combat situations, junctioned or not. He'd seen too many good fighters die because they relied on junctions too much.

"Need to remain light and mobile," Squall replied. "Even a light flak vest might be too stiff. It's comfortable enough as is." He sighed and lifted his goggles off his head, and then took his mask off, before rubbing his short beard. "But the mask makes it hard to scratch."

"At least I get to see your face before you drop in," Rinoa added. She reached up and put a hand over Squall's face, and he clasped it with his own gloved one. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on her forehead, and stepped back, before turning back to the rest of the troop bay. As he did so, Zell emerged from the throng of SeeDs, moving into the little bit of open space Squall and Rinoa had gotten. He, like they, was clad in winter camouflage, though he still hadn't donned his helmet.

"Still no word, man," the brawler said, shaking his head. "Trabia's been trying to contact Irvine and Selphie's team, but they've disappeared. No reports on whether they're alive or captured, or whatever."

"We shouldn't assume the worst just yet," Rinoa suggested. "They probably saw the enemy advance and took cover."

"They wouldn't know Esthar is the enemy yet," Squall replied, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what's happened to them. I'll try to tap into their data network inside the prison, see if I can come up with anything." He looked across the troop bay. "Where's Quistis?"

"Right here," she called, moving through the crowd, and stepping into view, also clad in her combat gear, rante ready by her side. "It looks like everyone's ready for combat, or will be in a few minutes. We'll be ready to hit them the second we touch down. I've also been talking with General Randolph and President Caraway. They've got combat-ready battle groups running along the coast of Trabia, complete with aircraft and long-range cruise missiles. We'll have some decent air support and can give them targets for missile strikes."

"That's good news," Squall said with a nod. _At least they won't be without backup._

"Don't worry about us!" Zell added with a wide grin. "We'll whip their sorry behinds for thinking they could mess with Garden! But . . . You sure about this? You're going to be by yourself, man. Is this really necessary?"

"Trabia's just a prelude," Squall said, shaking his head. "Iceblood Prison is where this war is going to be decided."

"If the information Laguna gave us is right, then you should be dropped right on top of it," Quistis added, and Squall nodded.

This was going to be a precise drop, low altitude, with no parachute, relying entirely on the snow and Squall's junctions to get him down alive. Ordinarily they would have done a HALO (high altitude, low opening) drop to get past sensors, but Esthar's tech was too advanced, even for a covert deployment like that. They had to go for an even riskier drop to get him in undetected, by flying so low that the Ragnarok melded with the terrain.

"Squall!" came a shout over the intercom, from Mike. "Approaching the LZ! Get to the ramp!"

"Acknowledged!" Squall shouted back, and looked to his comrades, and then at the SeeDs in the bay as they all turned to face him. He quickly stood at attention and gave them a salute, which the entire bay returned instantly.

"Good luck!" he called to his troops, and then moved across the bay, into the small forward cargo bay with the main loading ramp. Squall hit a panel next tot he ramp, and he heard the hissing of hydraulics as he pulled his mask back down and donned the goggles. He glanced back, to see Zell, Quistis, and Rinoa had followed him into the bay to watch him drop.

The ramp shuddered open, and frigid Trabian air poured in as the Ragnarok decelerated. Squall turned around to his comrades, and gave them a quick nod as he pulled his goggles down over his eyes. The SeeD Commander took a step back, out onto the ramp, and gave them a thumbs up before stepping off. His feet touched nothing, and the Ragnarok flew overhead as Squall dropped toward the ground only fifty feet below.

He was in free fall for a split second before he slammed into a snowdrift. Instantly, Squall stood up, brushing the snow off his body and putting a hand on his gunblade. In his ears, he heard the roar of the airship's engines as it rocketed away, instantly disappearing over the horizon. Squall looked in that direction, watching his transport and comrades vanish, and then turned, casting his gaze over the landscape before him. The Commander oriented himself as he identified the environment.

Snow. Trees in the distance. More snow. No Estharian battalions rumbling over the hills, enemy commandoes leaping out of the snow drifts, or screaming fighter planes dropping bombs on his position. Good.

Squall Leonhart quickly moved out of the snow drift, trudging across the plains. He knew where he was going, and the approximate location of Iceblood. Now all he had to do was get there alive.

-

"What the hell is going on here?" Illarra demanded as she walked into the circular control center for Iceblood prison. She glanced around the room, at the dozen soldiers manning the consoles and shouting into communications gear, none of whom were paying any attention to her as alarms sounded in the distance. After several seconds, she snarled and grabbed one of the men, yanking him out of his chair and turning his startled face to see her.

"What the hell is happening?" she demanded. The man gaped for a second, shocked by the sudden question, and finally stammered a reply.

"Prisoners have escaped!" he said quickly. Illarra blinked. Prisoners . . . escaping in Iceblood?

_That doesn't happen. Something odd is going on here._

"Who!" she shouted.

"SeeDs!" the soldier said quickly. "SeeDs . . . and I think one of the scientists, Nash! they said something about Elementals, and . . . I don't know! We're trying to find them!"

Illarra tossed the soldier aside, her junction-enhanced arms flinging him like a rag doll, and she turned toward the accessway leading deeper into the prison. As she walked toward it, the door flew open, and in stumbled a gasping man in black attire, who quickly straightened as he saw Illarra.

"Ah!" the Warden said, smiling, though his expression was obviously forced. "Illarra! My dear, your timing is perfect. We're in a bit of a crisis, two of my prisoners have escaped, and one of my head scientists has turned out to be a traitor who also turns out to be an insane, fire-wielding Elemental. Who'd have thought?"

Illarra blinked at the candid explanation, and then shook her head.

"In all honesty, I don't care about what the hell is going on now," she replied. "I need to get to the labs. I have something important to pick up."

"That being?" the warden asked, but Illarra didn't answer as she walked past.

"Will you help us with the SeeD problem?" he asked hesitantly, and she glanced back at the Warden.

"Who are they?" Illarra asked.

"Ah, two important ones. Tilmitt and Kinneas, have you heard about them?"

"Squall's friends?" Illarra asked, and she suddenly laughed, before turning away and moving into the main prison complex.

_If you're holding those two here . . . will Squall show up? Fate tends to arrange such meetings. And if Squall does show up . . . then my vindication will come so much sooner. I just need those vials . . . ._

-

A hastily fired bolt of plasma cut over Irvine's shoulder, and he whirled around, leveling his rifle at the offending Estharian soldier. The rifle cracked once, firing two bullets that slammed into the man's chest and sent him to the floor.

Behind Irvine, there was a rush of frigid air and cry of shock as Selphie froze an enemy soldier in his tracks, and then slammed him with her nunchaku. There was the sickening crunch that the sharpshooter had recently come to associate with her attacks, and the Estharian was doubtless in some sickening and fatal position thanks to her strike.

On the tail end of that was an agonized scream, and Irvine turned in time to see Nash lift up another enemy soldier with one hand and set the man ablaze. The scientist tossed the burning soldier aside and thrust his arm forward, loosing a gout of fire that immolated another pair of the enemy as they dove for cover.

"Move, move!" The sharpshooter urged, cutting past his comrades and rushing ahead.

"The accessway to the Undercity should be up ahead!" Nash shouted. "The guards use it to go down there, but I think it's going to be well-defended. We open it up and we can get inside!"

"Let's not waste any time!" Irvine replied, and they rounded another bend in the passage, and descended a short flight of steps, rapidly moving from industrial concrete walls to hewn stone tunnels. They moved down another corridor, ending in a wide sliding set of hydraulic double doors. They opened as the group approached, and Irvine skidded to a halt, raising his rifle as he spotted a half-dozen soldiers standing in the short corridor beyond, before another set of doors.

"That's it!" Nash shouted as he saw the other pair of doors, and then raised his hands as the enemy soldiers advanced. Irvine fired a hasty shot that struck the first enemy in the neck, but the soldier only took a step back, maroon blood gushing from his wound.

"Elementals!" Nash declared, and Irvine dove to the side as two of them fired plasma bolts at him. Selphie rushed in front of the sharpshooter, conjuring up an icy shield in front of Irvine to protect him from plasma bolts, while Nash dove into the battle.

"These guys are tough," Irvine muttered, and switched his rifle for his twin pair of Calicos.

"Not in my eyes," Selphie replied, and Irvine glanced at her, to see her making a quick gesture with her hand. The icy shield instantly transformed into a shard of ice, which she sent hurtling down the passage at the prison's elite soldiers. Two of the men dove aside with shocking agility, but a third caught the icy spear in the gut and was sent flying back, impaled by the frozen projectile.

Irvine leveled his Calicos at one of the two men who had dodged the icicle and fired, holding down the triggers. Purple blood exploded as his bullets ripped into the man, but the elemental rose and charged, seemingly oblivious to the bullets. Irvine stood still, keeping the triggers depressed as his Calicos emptied their magazines into the man, ripping apart the Elemental's armor and flesh, sending purple fountains into the air. Finally, after several seconds of continuous fire, the Estharian soldier's steps faltered, and he fell to the floor, shredded.

Beside Irvine, Selphie quickly made another gesture at the third soldier, and the man was instantly incased in a shard of ice. She twisted her wrist slightly, and the ice shattered, taking the frozen Elemental with it.

Nash, on the other hand, was being much more up close and personal with his opponents. A right cross sent one Elemental spinning around, not even the inhuman strength of his treatments saving him from the force of Nash's punch. As the soldier was spun around, Nash planted a hand on his back, and a gout of flame vaporized his spinal column. A second Elemental soldier chopped at the scientist with his axe, but Nash quickly caught the swinging blade and redirected it with his left hand, while his right caught the soldier by his neck. Nash squeezed, and there was a flash of white light, and the soldier's neck was transformed into ash.

The scientist hopped back as the last Elemental hacked at him with his axe, and then shot forward, inside the soldier's reach. Nash led with a fierce uppercut that knocked the man back and up into the air, and fire cascaded around his other arm as it shot forward in a devastating punch. And inferno blossomed where the fist met the soldier, and charred chunks of the man were hurled against the inner doorway an instant later.

The dust and ash had not even settled when Nash ran to a control panel near the inner door. He touched a holographic symbol, and the doors groaned open. hissing on hydraulics as they slid apart. The yawning expanse beyond opened to reveal flickering lamps lighting a long stone passage, coated by a very thin layer of ice.

"The Undercity lies beyond," Nash explained, and he touched another symbol on the panel. "Let's hurry, this door will shut in moments!" The trio moved through the meter-thick concrete door and into the corridor beyond, and the portal closed seconds later as they stepped into the suddenly much more frigid cavern.

Irvine found his boots sliding along the ice, and his hands flew out wide. Selphie quickly caught him and held him up, somehow not even budging on the ice. Irvine steadied himself against her.

"Thanks," he said, and she smiled and nodded, before crouching and touching the ice.

"Strange," she whispered, tracing her hand along the ice, which seemed to ripple like water to her touch.

"We're beneath the permafrost," Nash explained. "The caverns are coated with thick layers of ice down here. For most people, it will be uncomfortable, but I think for you, Selphie, you'll feel right at home." She nodded and stood up, and moved ahead of the other pair as they advanced down the cavern.

"What's to keep the Warden from sending an army after us?" Irvine asked, and Nash chuckled.

"We have our own army down here," he replied. "Plus, down here is the Governor, and even the Elementals will think twice before coming down after him."

"Why would they let them form an army?" Selphie asked, and Nash shook his head.

"The Undercity was intended to be a place where the prisoners are dumped and forgotten. There's no food, no heating, nothing down here . . . but the people have managed to scratch out an existence among the ice somehow. Melting ice to create water, clearing a patch in the main cavern with magical fire to grow food . . . they've even managed to bribe some of the guards to bring down furs and equipment, too, to generate heat. They're tired of being shunted down here, and they want freedom." Nash grinned.

"Myself and the Governor are their biggest hopes for freedom."

"Who is the Governor?" Irvine asked.

"The leader of the prisoners in the Undercity," Nash explained as they descended deeper into the caverns. "The former Governor was a vicious, hulking brute of a man, who took anything he wanted by force and kept the others in line through brute strength. But a few months ago another prisoner was added, a young upstart who refused to obey the Governor's commands. They had a fight, and the new kid killed the old Governor in two moves. Ever since then, he's been the Governor, and has brought hope back to the people."

They came around a corner, and without warningran headlong into a half-dozen men clad in shaggy, thick, dirty furs. The men recoiled, but only for an instant, and lowered their crude metal spears and knives.

"Nash," one of them said, laughing. "What brings you down here? We heard alarms, and the doors opening and voices, so we came to investigate . . . ." the speaker trailed off, looking to Nash's armed companions. "What's happening?"

"Revolution, Ed," Nash said to the man, and the leader of the group suddenly sported a wide, exhilarated grin. Ed turned to his comrades, who looked equally excited, and they quickly spoke among themselves.

"You're serious?" Ed asked looking back at Nash, and the scientist nodded.

"In less than twenty-four hours, we'll all be on our way to freedom." Nash glanced at Irvine and Selphie. "All of us."

"And who are your companions?" Ed asked, looking at the two SeeDs.

"SeeDs, from Balamb Garden," Nash explained. "Selphie Tilmitt and Irvine Kinneas." Both SeeDs gave polite nods to the prisoners, who nodded in turn.

"Garden?" one of the prisoners in the group echoed. "You think the Governor will want to see them?"

"He will," Ed replied. "He should be in the main cavern. Come!" One of the furred-prisoners turned and ran down the corridor, while the others quickly flanked the newcomers and led them down the passage. They ambled along the icy corridors, lights reflecting off the lamps strewn along the passage. Ed led them past other knots of prisoners, who were apparently already talking about the news of the newcomers and the even more exciting notion of freedom.

"Word travels fast in prisons," Ed commented as he led them through the Undercity, cutting through several large, ice-covered chambers filled with more furred prisoners. "Not a bat squeaks in the Undercity without the whole place hearing about it in moments!"

They moved down another corridor, and then suddenly turned off, down a shot passage that opened into a massive, wide chamber of black and gray stone, stretching for hundreds of feet before them. They found themselves on a wide balcony overlooking the vast cavern, which was capped by ice at the ceiling, and the floor of which consisted of a wide, shallow lake of melted ice water, with hundreds of green plants growing around it in small, tilled plots below, where denizens of the Undercity worked the soil and grew food. The chamber was a shock to the group who had been traversing icy passages moments before, but an even greater shock was the man standing on the edge of the balcony, overlooking the great cavern.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Irvine muttered as she saw the man. His coat was in tatters, and stained black and bloody dark red in some spots, and his hair was dirty, shaggy, and unkempt, but Irvine recognized the man just fine. He turned around, blonde hair dropping into his blue-gray eyes. His shirt was gone, leaving his bare, muscled chest for all to see, criss-crossed with a half-dozen scars and gunshot wounds, including one deep slash along his flank that had been inflicted a long time ago. The sleeve along his right arm was rolled up, to reveal the thin grayish line along his forearm where the mechanical portion of his forearm met the biological portion of his body.

And along the front of his face, half-obscured by the shaggy blonde hair, was a scar, cutting from his lower right to his upper left forehead, the same scar Squall Leonhart had inflicted upon him over three years ago.

"Now, now," the Governor of the Undercity, Seifer Almasy, former SeeD cadet, general, and Sorceress' Knight, stated with a pleasantly surprised chuckle. "Who expected _this_, of all things, to happen?"

* * *

-

* * *

And its revealed! The Governor is Seifer! Though I don't think any of you are actually very surprised by that revelation. :P

Anyway. This chapter is more or less a prelude to the battles coming up in the future. There's going to be one hell of a fight to save Trabia Garden, and what's going to happen when Squall and Illarra meet? And what of Serra, Irvine, Selphie, Seifer, and Nash?

**RAGING SHONEN SHOUT-OUTS!**

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Galbadia and Dollet can't get to Trabia fast enough because their cargo planes and helicopters are slower than the Ragnaroks Garden uses. It has nothing to do with scrambling, just the speed of their transports.

Yes, Squall should be leading the garden forces, but you have to keep in mind, Illarra is there at Iceblood Prison, and Squall is suffering from a desire for vengance . . . not to mention that, as Alucard said, what's going on in Iceblood is more important than what's happeningat Trabia Garden.

**Chris Ganale:** Well, Esthar may not have Stormie-stylewinter combat armor, but you never know about Dollet and Galbadia . . . .

**OniRazz:** Well gee, I think this chapter, and the flying, charred chunks of Estharian soldiers,answered the question as to whether Nash is a capable fighter :P

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen: **Oh, trust me, the first Mindfuck Bomb will be dropped eithe rnext chapter or the one after it. Heh . . . and I seriously doubt ANYONE's going to see the twist coming.

Heh, yeah, Alucard is a bit too tough for Squall to just chop him in half :P it would just grow back, too. there's more of Alucard in Alucard than just his name. XD

**Platonic1:** Thanks for the compliment! And yeah, its about time we finally met Seifer. Trust me, he's going to be hardcore, too. And if you think Governor Seifer is badass . . . well, wait until you see him later in the story, when he becomes what I like to call "Holy Order Seifer." Hee. And no, no one is getting any further clues regarding that, no matter how much you ask. You'll just have to wait and see.

**Leonhartilly:** I'm cryptic because it makes my readers angry, and it gets them even deeper into the story. XD

**Solid Shark:** Trust me. . . . "fascinating" won't begin to describe the reasonwhy Nash and Squall look alike.

**Angel of Apocalypse:** Yeah, I love Selphie too. Part of the reason why I'm actually kind of mean to her. Its strange, but when I like a character, I tend to abuse them, because they will pull out of it and become stronger because of it.

**Doom18769:** Never fear: this isn't getting abandoned.

**JadeAlmasy:** Huh. I always paired Squall with Queztoctl, personally. The lightning GF fits with his name and all, and I've always viewed the hero of any FF I've played as being closely linked with lightning as their "element" so to speak.

And yes, the next few chapters will definitely be Hoth inspired. Hee.

**Spikestrife:** I was a bit worried that the Irvine and Selphie bit was cheesy, but I guess it does work out, doesn't it? And yeah, Squall's gonna get pissed, but not because anyone dies. I will say that in the next few chapters something will happen that will be extremely important to the progression of the story.

**TainShairi**: I love it when people get excited by my work XD

**JJFireBrand05**: Nothing shall make me divulge more hints! NOTHING! Unless you ask really, really nicely.

One of the two GFs Serra is infused with is not from FFVIII. The other, however, is.

Requiem . . . it looks like how I described it :P Sort of like an exoskeletal armor, partially dragon-like, partially futuristic. i'm not sure how else to describe it . . . at least not without spoiling something.

**Johnny:** I love Resident Evil too, mayself. I was partially using the idea for GFs and viruses, too, as inspiration.

Junctioning GFs weakens a person's memory, but injecting them like an Elemental does not. Junctions allow GFs to inhabit your brain and interfere with memory, while Elemental treatments cause you to essentially connect, body and soul, to that GF, which is far different. Essentially you become a conduit for its power, like a Sorceress is a conduit for magic.

**Solarious:** What! Uhh, no, Serra is not a Dizzy-like rip-off character. Same as Alucard isn't a rip-off of Slayer, or Nash isn't a blatant rip-off of Sol Badguy . . . . XD Erg, yeah, this story is surprisingly inspired by Guilty Gear. A lot of it is very Guilty Gear-ish in many places (like how the Elementals are a lot like Gears) If you look closely, you'll actually see Nash pull off Sol's Tyrant Ravein this chapter. XD

**E:** I like huge reviews . . . .

Yeah, I know. I know I got the idea for Requiemfrom somewhere, but I'm not sure.

**Red Eyed, Divine Dragoon:** Well, yeah, that is a lot like my ideas. In Gunblade,I basically explained that Garden graduates and wash-outs could join other nations' militaries, and that Galbadia Garden ran a program to train Galbadian officers and elite troops.

Imight update Synthesis soon, just not right now. I'm heavily inspired for Chimera at the moment.

**Silver-Nex:** Dang right, you should feel sorry for Squall. You're going to feel even more sorry for him as this fic progresses :P

**Snowecat:** hanks! XD I update weekly, unless I'm tired or real busy.

**Elachim:** Do you, like, wait until I'm about to post a new chapter before reviewing, because dang! That review came just before I got done with this :P

Agh! "Thick metallic band" was supposed to be there. I need to fix that. :P

Yeah, I wonder how they will save Trabia Garden? Its likely going to be an intense, harrowing battle with an unlikely hero arriving from left field, probably leading an army of green undead soldiers to overrun the charging Mumakil:P

Yes. "Oh no!" definitely describes what's going to happen over the next few chapters. Along with "Holy shit!" "Oh, crap!" and "Ow..."

Nashw as the one injected with Ifrit. Or rather, he injected himself. As for Serra, well, you'll find out what's in her when . . . well, you'll see. :P

Green goggles? Check. Knife and scary voice? Check.Ironic sense of humor? Check. Fat guy constanty whining about objectives? Nope :P

That everyone? Great.

Until next chapter!


	18. XVII: Assault

_**Chapter 17: Assault**_

"Go, go, go!" shouted one of the SeeD Captains as dozens of soldiers poured off the ramps, the disciplined SeeD warriors immediately forming a perimeter around the pair of Ragnoroks as they disgorged more men into the snowy plains of Trabia. Four hundred SeeDs fanned out from the airships in less than a minute, and the two large aircraft immediately rose as the SeeDs seemed to melt into the snow, sweeping toward a ridge overlooking the path that the Estharian advance would follow. The airships rocketed away to a nearby wooded region, where they would wait until the SeeDs called for their aid.

As the Ragnaroks' engine roars faded into the distance, the SeeDs mounted the ridge, roughly a quarter of their number moving to the top while the others moved around the side of the wide, quarter-mile-long rise. Quistis, Zell, and Rinoa were the first to the top of the natural formation, and looked out over the plains with long-range scanning binoculars.

"See 'em?" Zell asked, looking to the east, in the general direction of the enemy advance.

"No, not yet," Quistis replied. "We still have time." She pressed a finger to her ear, activating the unit-wide radio. "A Company, set up your packages along the edge of the ridge, and hurry. B Company, stand-by and prepare to summon GFs on my command. C and D Companies, flank the ridge, and get behind cover. When the Estharians arrive, its going to get ugly, and we'll need you to keep them off our backs. Painters, mark sectors A, C, and D."

Quistis heard a slew of acknowledgements as the SeeDs fanned out,three-fourths of their forces flanking the ridge while the others moved forward, planting mines along the ridge and across the ground in front of it. A squad of SeeDs leveled laser targeting designators at specific points beyond the ridge, and waited for Quistis' next command to call in air support. The last group of SeeDs took up positions on top of the ridge.

"Don't worry, Quistis," Zell assured her, patting her on the shoulder. "We'll keep them busy."

"They won't be too happy when they see what we've got cooked up for them," Quistis added with a slight smile, and Zell nodded, before moving down the ridge to one of the defensive positions.

"I know we've got a lot of firepower," Rinoa said quietly, "but we're up against a division here. That's over ten thousand Estharian troops. There's no way we can hold them."

"I know," Quistis answered solemnly. "Well keep them busy for as long as we can. With air support, we should hold out for a while, but even so . . ." Quistis shook her head.

"We're SeeDs," Rinoa said after a second, firmly. "We can hold. And don't forget who you've got on your side." Rinoa clenched a fist, and electricity ran down her arm.

"That's right," Quistis said, smiling. "I almost pity the fools who'd attack us." Rinoa chuckled slightly, and the two women were silent for several moments as Quistis scanned the horizon.

"You're worried about him," Quistis said, breaking the silence, and Rinoa nodded.

"I know he's safe, but still . . . every second he's out there, on his own, with no support, it makes me more afraid. I'm worried he might not come back. Or if he does, will he be the same man when I last hugged him?"

"Squall's the strongest man I know," Quistis replied. "He'll be safe. Trust me, and him. He won't give up. He'll do whatever it takes to get back to you." Rinoa smiled again at her friend's comforting words.

"Thanks," the Sorceress said. She looked across the ridge, and then back to Quistis. "I'd better get into position." Without another word, Rinoa moved down the ridge to her spot, near the center, where she was going to bolster the line against the inevitable enemy assault.

Quistis stood, relatively alone, scanning the horizon, and then suddenly paused. Sighing, she lowered her binoculars, and glanced back behind her.

"I'd ask how you did it, but I know I'm not getting an answer," she said, with a slight huff of annoyance.

Alucard simply chuckled, and walked around beside Quistis, to look out over the horizon. There was an exclamation of surprise form one of the SeeDs nearby as he saw the stranger, but Quistis quickly waved her hands, calming the man down, and signaled that Alucard was an ally. She then turned back to the intruder as he tapped his bearded chin, a faint smile across his face.

"Trabia is wonderful this time of year," he commented. "Unfortunately, my dear, it looks like the beauty will be marred by war. Most sad."

"Right," Quistis answered, looking back at the direction the enemy would approach from. "What are you doing here?"

"Four hundred against ten thousand is not decent odds," Alucard explained. "You might need all the help you can get."

"You're going to fight with us?" Quistis echoed, and the man chuckled.

"I have my reasons for meddling in this affair, I assure you," he stated. "But until those show themselves, I think I'll take some time to assist your forces."

"I think I'd appreciate that," Quistis added with a smile. Suddenly, things started looking a lot better for the small SeeD force.

* * *

Eric Malachi was not happy. His mechanized unit was a half-hour behind schedule, and the first advance units were halfway to Trabia Garden. They could expect a SeeD attack at any moment, and they needed their best troops out there. His elite men, a full company of one hundred and forty Elemental soldiers, plus Veronica and her freakish troops, were stuck waiting at the castle, but now, finally, they had received orders to get underway. The Major was infuriated at the delay, uncertain as to why the President himself had ordered a temporary stay in their unit's advance. 

As Malachi rounded one of the fast-moving, armored all-terrain combat vehicles that had been dubbed "Zako-class Assault Vehicles" muttering to himself about the delay, he received his answer.

Veronica was standing on the other side of the vehicle, but the Sorceress was not at ease. Her white-robed minions stood at firm attention, and she was standing straight and formal. It took a second for Malachi to figure out why the Sorceress herself was acting that way, but the instant he realized what it was, Malachi stood at stiff attention.

"Your unit is in prime condition, Major," came a quiet, childish voice, and Malachi stared straight ahead, his eyes far above the head of the small brown-haired girl who seemed to stand atop the snow, the tips of her delicate shoes almost hovering over it. The tiny girl, clad in an innocent-looking blue dress and with a charming, childish face, seemed benign and harmless, but both Malachi and Veronica knew all too well what she was capable of. And even more importantly, they knew how dangerous the hulking figure behind the girl was.

It stood tall, over seven feet, and was wrapped in what looked like a strange mixture of jet black robes and a shroud of shadow. A hood was pulled over its head, and a long pole, ending with a long scythe blade, was balanced across its shoulders, the specter's arms resting atop it casually.

"Hades," muttered Malachi, surprised, and the black-cloaked entity turned its hooded head to the soldier. Within the folds of the hood, one could see the face of a surprisingly young man, dark red hair dropping around his eyes, and the entity smiled.

"Malachi, nice to meet you again," said the hooded specter of Hades, with a chuckle. His voice was surprisingly casual and colloquial.

"What brings the two of you out this far?" asked Veronica, as calmly as the Sorceress could manage.

"Destruction," the little girl replied with a smile.

"Of course," Malachi whispered under his breath, but apparently not quietly enough, as Hades turned again to face the soldier.

"Hey, man, you know what floats our boats," the specter said with a laugh. "Death, destruction, mayhem, whatever. Long as something's getting wrecked, we like to see it."

"So you've come out this far just to watch us crush Trabia Garden?" Malachi asked, and the little girl nodded.

"To watch SeeD fall at your hands, or to watch you fall to theirs," she explained, smiling sweetly, which almost made Malachi recoil. "To tell the truth . . . we don't care who wins."

"Will you two be assisting in the battle?" Veronica asked, and Hades shook his head, the hood swaying with the motion.

"Like I said, we're just here to watch," the specter said with a toothy smile. "Esthar, SeeD, Dollet, Galbadia, we don't care. As long as people die."

"If you're not here to help in the battle, then why did you delay our departure?" Malachi demanded. "My men could be fighting SeeD right now."

"Oh, we just wanted to let you know we would be around," Hades stated with a shrug. "Ya'll can leave anytime. Just dropping by to say hi."

The little girl nodded, and let out another slight giggle, before turning around and walking off across the snowy plains, her toes never touching the snow beneath her feet. Hades followed a moment later, and Malachi shook his head as they vanished into the whiteness.

"We've wasted enough time on your games," he muttered. He turned his attention to a nearby lieutenant. "Hey! Get the battalion moving!"

As the vehicles powered up, and gears whirred and engines roared, the two figures moved off across the plains calmly, casually, in the general direction of Trabia Garden. They moved in silence for several moments, before the little girl stopped in her tracks, and cocked her head to the side, as if listening to a distant noise.

"What is it?" Hades asked, stopping as well.

"He's here," she whispered, and then laughed. It wasn't a girlish giggle, but a serious laugh, the kind an adult woman would make.

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" she asked, and Hades froze, before gripping his scythe more tightly as he smiled within his hood.

"Alucard is here . . . oh, yes. This is going to get _very_ interesting."

* * *

There were several long moments of silence as the trio inspected one another. Seifer was honestly surprised that people from Garden were actually prisoners at Iceblood, and even more surprised that they were Squall's friends. He recognized Irvine and Selphie, though of Squall's merry little band, they were the pair he was least familiar with. 

"The hell?" Irvine asked after a second, and Seifer chuckled.

"What are you two doing here?" the former knight asked, curious. "Never expected to see SeeDs in Iceblood."

"We could ask you the same thing," Selphie replied, and Seifer shrugged.

"I suppose a decent host needs to go first," he said, and then looked back down at the main cavern. "Crell isn't the type of guy to let free thinkers like me run around unchecked. He must have decided that a wild card shouldn't be left alone, because he tried to capture me." The former knight chuckled again, and looked back to the pair before him. "Surprisingly enough, he managed to pull it off. Cost him about forty of his best cyborg troops, but they did capture me. Dragged me here, with complimentary hood and electrical shocks every five minutes, and the Warden tried to make me talk. Naturally, he failed, because I'm not the talkative type, and I don't know anything useful anyway. Once they were done they dumped me down here.

"The big kahuna in charge of the Undercity didn't like me, so I gave him the finger. He attacked me, I gutted him, and took the job. Now I'm the Governor."

Seifer swept his hands out wide.

"Yay. Now. Your turn."

Irvine gave a brief accounting of how they had arrived, punctuated by Selphie's own commentary. He explained the mission to find the "demon," the encounter at the cabin, the chase through the woods, the meeting with Serra, and then their arrival at the castle, their capture andIrvine's subsequent interrogation and the experiments performed on Selphie, ending with Nash's plan to get them to the Undercity and their mad run through the prison to their current location.

"Sounds like it was fun," the Governor commented as the story ended. "So, they've got a timebomb sitting up there waiting to go off?" Seifer looked to Nash, who nodded.

"Once the containment field around Serra weakens enough to trigger her escape, she'll proceed to wreck the facility above," the scientist explained. "It won't take long for the guards to swarm the labs, and while that's happening, we slip out."

"And who'll keep Serra from ripping through the guards like wet tissue paper and then killing us and all my people?" Seifer demanded.

"Me and Selphie," Nash stated, and Selphie reluctantly nodded.

"Nobody else can," she said quietly. "We're the only ones with the power to stop her rampage."

"No, no, no, no no no," Seifer said, shaking his head and waving a hand in the air. "If Serra is even a tenth of what you guys say she is, then no. Selphie may be an Elemental, but you said it yourself, she was just changed. She doesn't have full control of her powers . . . right?" Selphie nodded hesitantly. "Then no, she's not going after Serra. She'll rip through Selphie like she's nothing, and that'll leave you alone to fight Serra. And as good as you are, Nash, you're not up to snuff when it comes to fighting her."

"You have a better plan?" Nash asked, and Seifer grinned.

"Me," he said, pointing a thumb at his chest. "You and me. Face it Nash, you'll need a hardcore motherfucker to fight her, and there's no motherfucker around as hardcore as me."

"What about the prisoners?" Irvine asked, and Seifer pointed at him.

"That's ya'll's job," he said. "You two get my people out of this prison. We'll watch your backs." he glanced at Nash. "And don't try to talk me out of it. Its you, me, and Serra, and no one else, got me?"

"Fine," Nash muttered.

"Then let's get to work," Seifer continued. "We don't have much time to get my people ready for freedom."

* * *

Malachi's unit had moved out a short while ago, leaving the exterior of the castle forlorn and empty. The blank Trabian plains were clear and open, allowing for small units of scouts on scout bikes to patrol the perimeter of Iceblood Prison, skirting the walls of Veronica's now empty castle. One pair of bikes circled around the south side of the castle, near a snow drift, and they split up, as usual, to cover both sides of the small hill. 

When one of the two scouts came back around, his partner was nowhere to be seen, and he brought his bike around, circling the drift. He immediately saw the other bike hovering quietly over the snow, motionless, with its rider nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, the scout edged toward the still bike.

The snow next to his vehicle exploded upward, and the man spun in time to take a fist across his jaw, which launched him off his bike and into the snow underfoot. The soldier scrambled up to his feet, but then an arm wrapped around his neck, grabbing at the man's weapon hand and holding it tightly, stilling it as if gripped by solid iron. An instant later, the soldier froze as an icy cold knife pressed against his neck.

"Don't move and you don't die," whispered a voice in his ear. "Your buddy is already dead. You want to join him? It doesn't take long to make a little grave for a body in the snow. Now, how do I get into the prison?"

The soldier stood stock still, somewhat off-guard and confused by the speed behind the attack.

"Who are you?" he asked after a second, and the man pressed the knife more tightly against his neck.

"I'm the guy who's going to stab this thing in the side of your head if you don't tell me how to get into the prison," the attacker snarled.

"Wait!" the scout protested. "The prison! The main entrance is in the castle itself, in the basement. But it's well-guarded."

"That's not much good to me, and neither are you if you can't give me another option."

"On the south side of the castle there's a grating in the wall," the soldier added. "It's a vent that leads into the prison's ventilation system. It connects directly to the labs."

"That's very useful information," the man with the knife replied. "I hope it works out, too. If I find out you're lying, I will come back and cut off your head. And with a knife like this, it'll take a while."

"Its true!" the soldier assured him, and the man nodded. Suddenly the soldier was being shoved forward, and his helmet slammed into the armored casing of his bike. He was blasted into unconsciousness, and the man who attacked him buried the soldier beneath the snow drift, just like his dead comrade, and then dragged the bikes to the forest nearby and hid them. The evidence gone, the white-clad man moved to the south side of the castle.

Five minutes and one length of rope later, Squall Leonhart kicked a grating loose in a corridor of Iceblood Prison's secret lab facilities, and dropped to the floor, one hand on his gunblade, and the other sliding his goggles over his eyes. He flicked a switch, and the darkened corridor lit up in the greens and blacks of night vision.

Silently, moving with stealth that would make the Reaper jealous, Squall prowled down the corridor. He kept his eyes open and ears alert for any sound, but heard nothing as he advanced.

After a few moments, a door appeared ahead, and Squall crept up to it. He inched it open, to reveal a large, well-lit chamber, some type of laboratory. There was the usual array of lab equipment, but at the far end of the chamber was a strange dome-like structure, and standing before a holographic panel in front of it was a familiar, diminuative man.

_Hans Odine. That bastard . . . ._

Squall edged into the chamber, quietly closing the door behind him, and slipped toward the doctor, taking his goggles off. The SeeD drew his knife as he neared, and then grabbed the short man roughly, putting his knife to the doctor's throat.

"You are going to talk to me now, you treasonous son of a bitch, or I will cut you into a dozen tiny pieces."

* * *

"Stand by!" Quistis shouted into her radio as the first of dozens of distant vehicles came into her scope. "We have incoming! Get to your positions!" 

In Quistis' binoculars, she could see the enemy, coming over the horizon, flying over the white snow. Dozens of light scout bikes leading, followed by Zako light assault vehicles, hovering troop transports, and trailed by sizable, powerful-looking hovering tanks with long-barreled blaster cannons.

Further back, and soon rising into view, however, were what frightened Quistis even more. She could see hulking shapes in the distance, massive, heavily armed walking combat vehicles, moving on insect-like legs as they lumbered across the plains. Quistis didn't know what they were, but they looked positively devastating.

"What are we looking at?" came a call over the radio.

"Looks like a full mechanized division, with support troops," she replied, giving her troops the grim news. "I count at least a hundred scout bikes, plus four to five dozen Zako assault vehicles, and a hundred troop transports in the first wave, backed by about fifteen tanks. There's more beyond them." Quistis paused, letting the news sink in, and then pressed the radio to her eardrum. "Target markers, stand by to send your signals. Stand by . . . " She waited until the enemy drew a little closer.

The vehicles moved forward, close enough that she could make them out without her scope.

"Paint your targets!" Quistis ordered, and the SeeDs marking their targets sent transmissions that would reach back to the Galbadian and Dollet fleets a hundred miles south, who would even then be firing long-range cruise missiles. By the time the missiles arrived, the enemy would already be within the target area and would be annihilated.

"All personnel stand by. GF units, begin summons. Bombers, wait for Alpha command to detonate charges. Combat teams and snipers, move on Bravo. Ragnarok, Render, stand by for strafing on Charlie. Target markers, switch to air support frequencies."

Quistis heard a dozen acknowledgements all around her as she watched the oncoming Estharian army. Even more vehicles could be seen beyond the hulking war machines as they advanced, and she didn't want to guess at what range the walkers could hit her position. Once they started firing, she knew, they would have to retreat. Nothing the SeeDs had, excepting their air support, could probably destroy those things.

The Estharian forces drew ever closer, enough so that Quistis could pick out the details on the oncoming vehicles with her naked eyes. They were almost on top of the blast radius of the mines . . . .

"Get ready," she whispered. "Stand by . . . ."

The enemy moved completely within bombing range.

"Alpha, go!"

The plains of Trabia turned into a hellish inferno as forty-seven explosive charges buried in the snow detonated at the head of the mechanized column as it passed the ridge. Half of the lead vehicles, inluding a majority of the scout bikes, many Zakos, and several transports, were consumed in the firestorm.

"Release GFs!" Quistis shouted, and an instant later, lightning crashed, ice erupted from the ground, snow melted, and stones shifted. A titanic windstorm began as a bird of lightning appeared, Queztocotl flashing into existence. Beside it, Shiva and Ifrit appeared as well, rising from the snow or melting cleanly through it. The shifting stones transformed into the twopowerful Brothers, Sacred and Minotaur, and from the winds appeared Pandamonea, the wind Guardian Force. A dragon of white light emerged from thing air, as did a great bird of flame, and other, powerful, mighty beasts. A dozen GFs materialized in front of the second portion of the column, and at once, energy shot down the length of the mechanized force. Fire, ice, lightning, holy power, and waves of shadow ripped through the armor. Men screamed, Estharian metals buckled, and power cores detonated as the wrath of a dozen Guardian Forces devastated the front of the column. The Brothers and several other GFs crashed into what remained of the vehicles, smashing, cutting, and rending them. A great warrior brandishinga curving sword and riding atop a mightyhorse, dashed among a pair of tanks, and sliced them apart instantly with a single cleave of his blade. Wind ripped through the vehicles, lifting them up in a maelstrom of chaos and casting them about wildly.

Then, one by one, the Guardian Forces vanished, leaving the wrecked Estharian military forces strewn across the plains.

Hot on their heels, however, were twice that many war machines and vehicles, rapidly advancing. Wild bolts of plasma cut through the air as the lead scout bikes and Zako assault vehicles opened fire with their energy cannons. The Estharian fire slammed into the ridgeline, forcing the SeeDs to take cover as the enemy closed in.

"They must know where we are," commented one of the SeeD summoners beside Quistis, and she nodded. Quistis glanced to he south, and smiled as she saw eight dark lines, trailing white contrails, swooping toward their position.

"Everyone duck!" she shouted, and the SeeDs obeyed her command as the eight cruise missiles roared overhead, arced up into the air, and shot down on the oncoming vehicles. The entire battle plain erupted in a tremendous flash of fire and wild smoke and flying debris as the roaring blast assaulted the SeeDs' ears.

Seconds after the utter annihilation of the second wave, yet more Estharian vehicles close in, slamming the ridge with infuriated plasma fire.

"Bravo, mark!" Quistis shouted, and the SeeD combat forces, the majority of her people, opened fire upon the blackened battle plain, launching magic, bullets, grenades, and rockets into the oncoming enemy.

Quistis clutched her rante tightly as Estharian vehicles and troops broke through the lines of destruction and rushed her troops.

"Charlie, go! Get our air support airborne now!"

Below, Quistis saw a volley of concentrated magic slam into a Zako, annihilating the Estharian vehicle, and then, charging across the half-melted snow and mud, came a wave of Estharian infantry, dismounted from vehicles and transports, flanked by scout bikes. SeeDs poured magic and bullets into their ranks, and they traded plasma fire right back. Several SeeDs fell, but dozens of Estharians dropped as they rushed in.

_"Charge!"_ came a shout from one end of the ridge, and the SeeDs rushed out suddenly, led by a single dashing figure, wielding no weapons. Zell Dincht, rushing with neither fear nor hesitation, slammed into the leading edge of the Estharian infantry, throwing back the first man he met with a single punch that sent him spinning back halfway into his own ranks, and then the battle was joined in full as two hundred SeeDs met four times their number in Estharian soldiers and scout vehicles.

"Support them!" came a order from Quistis, and more GFs appeared on the field as Estharian tanks rumbled into view, followed by even more Estharians scouts, light vehicles, and transports. Overhead, the thunder of engines could be heard as the Ragnarok and Render swooped past, machineguns blasting enemy vehicles below in devastating strafing runs.

On the horizon, the hulking walkers drew closer.

Estharian troops and vehicles stormed toward the other end of the ridge as well, but were halted as withering streams of magic and gunfire tore into them. A single massive fiery explosion annihilated a dozen vehicles and fifty Estharian troops, followed by cascading lightning, a slew of icicles, and a whirlwind of shadow magic that left an entire company of Estharians dead as their ranks were mowed down by cheering SeeDs. Quistis nodded as she saw a slender figure standing among the SeeDs, unleashing a stream of small orbs of light that exploded like grenades among the enemy. Rinoa had joined the battle, and the SeeDs backed her fully as she unleashed her Sorceress magic on the oncoming enemy. That flank was secured. Nothing would overrun it for the moment, not with Rinoa guarding it.

Below, several tanks broke through the GFs' wave of annihilation, and turned their cannons toward the ridge. Quistis shouted for everyone to duck, and red energy slammed into the cliff walls, sending several SeeDs to the ground from the shockwaves. However, the fire slackened instantly, and Quistis poked her head above the ridge, to see a figure appear among the tanks.

Grinning widely, Alucard thrust his hand through one tank's side, his arm reaching inside the vehicle. He grabbed something important and twisted it in an angle that was completely unhealthy for the vehicle's operations, and then vanished. An instant later, the tank exploded in a blue fireball as the strange man reappeared above a second tank. With a single punch, he slammed through the top of the vehicle, and ripped off plating. The two crewmen inside looked up in shock as he pointed down into the tank, and a small bolt of purple light shot down into the vehicle. The man leapt off the tank, and then snapped his fingers as he strolled away.

The tank detonated seemingly of its own accord, and Alucard vanished, reappearing next to another vehicle, which he quickly destroyed as well, seemingly with minimal effort.

Across from the tank assault, Zell Dincht's forehead slammed into an Estharian soldier's faceplate, and the man's head was reduced to mush. An axe hacked at Zell's side, but the brawler spun around it and came in behind the chop with an uppercut that sent the soldier flying high above the battlefield. He dropped low and leapt forward, slamming into another group of enemy soldiers and knocking them down. The brawler rose, stomping one man's backbone into fragments, and then kicked a second man away. The flying body took down three other soldiers as Zell grabbed a swinging axe and wrenched it from its owner's hands, and then chopped the man down with his own weapon. Zell thrust his elbow back behind him and crushed the collarbone of another Estharian, and rolled around the dying man, grabbing another and hip-tossing him into the snow. Zell's other fist chased the falling soldier, crushing his helmet, and the brawler leapt back as an axe cut through the space he'd been standing in an instant ago.

The attacking soldier took a step forward, and then toppled over, falling into two pieces. The SeeD who had slain the Estharian whirled around, katana snapping out into the path of another Estharian, chopping h is head off before returning to its sheath in the SeeD's hand.

"Lex!" Zell shouted as he twisted an Estharian's neck at a distinctly lethal angle. "Right side!" The iaijutsu SeeD whirled, katana flickering, and the soldier coming at him fell in half even as he raised his shotaxe. Zell spun around, a right jab pulverizing an enemy soldier's ribcage as Lex cut down a pair of Estharian troops with deft ease.

"Scout bikes!" a SeeD Captian warned, and a dozen SeeDs quickly lined up, facing an equal number of enemy bikes as they swept in. Zell rushed to join them as they fired a slew of magic and guns at the enemy, destroying several of the enemy vehicles before scattering as the enemy drove among them. One bike swerved toward Zell, and he leapt forward, onto the front of the vehicle. Gripping the armored plating, Zell smiled.

"Mine now!" he shouted, and kicked the Estharian off the back of the bike and plopped himself into the seat. He pivoted the vehicle around and poured fire into a squad of Estharian soldiers.

Another pair of scout bikes bore down on Lex. He calmly faced then, one hand gripping his sheath, the other loosely holding his katana. The bikes accelerated, flying toward him at high speeds. Just before impact, Lex stepped between the two vehicles, his arm moving in two rapid blurs. The bikes flew past, and a moment later both of them fell apart, as did their riders, sliced cleanly.

Zell plowed through a platoon of Estharians who desperately dove out of the way, firing as he did so, and came around into to see a tank emerge from the Estharian ground forces and level its cannon at a group of SeeDs. Thinking fast, the brawler fired his weapons, the plasma bolts exploding against the tank's armor and catching its attention. The cannon rotated toward Zell, and he accelerated at full speed toward the vehicle. With one hand guiding the bike, Zell used his other hand to rip off the plating covering the engine and pull loose a couple of cables. Then, he thrust the cables into another portion of the engine, feeding power back into the small fusion generator and initiating a lethal overload of raw power.

The brawler kicked off his speeding vehicle as it neared the tank, and the bike, set to overload, slammed into the heavy Estharian war machine. An instant later, the bike detonated in a blue fireball that swept over the tank and melted off the armor. A few seconds later, the compromised tank detonated as well.

Even as Zell hit the ground, the Estharian forces had come to realize that they were no match for the powerful SeeD detachment in this kind of confrontation. The Estharian troops had begun to pull back, and the SeeDs let them go, refusing to pursue the enemy into what could easily have been a trap. Zell and Lex led the SeeD forces back to the ridge and prepared for the next attack.

"Good work," Quistis whispered over the radio, and glanced down to the other end of the ridge. Rinoa's force had held its ground with remarkable ease, with most of the enemy never even getting close enough to attack the SeeD positions. A blackened killing field lay before their lines, largely due to Rinoa's overwhelming magical power, which had almost single-handedly held the position despite the mass Estharian assault.

"All right, people, get dug back in, we should expect another attack at any time," Quistis ordered over the radio. "They probably won't let us sit here for too long. Get the wounded and dead out of the line of fire, and then-"

Red energy rocketed down the horizon and slammed into the ridge less than fifty feet from Quistis' position. The SeeDs at the point of impact vanished in a flash of pure red light as a quarter of the ridge was vaporized instantly, and most of the remaining SeeD troops positioned there were hurled off their feet, Quistis among them. She tumbled down the side of the ridge, bouncing off rocks and debris, shocked and confused by the impact, and finally crashed down hard near Zell's position.

"Get behind cover!" someone was shouting, and a strong pair of hands hoisted Quistis back up to her feet as her head pounded, ears ringing. An instant later, a second thunder-blast filled the air, and the rest of the ridge vanished in an explosion of brilliant red-gold light.

"Its those walkers!" came another cry as Quistis felt a healing spell wash over her. She looked up, and saw Zell helping her stand and casting the spell over her. She nodded her thanks and grabbed at her radio, which had somehow survived the explosion.

"The walkers are firing on us," Zell added. "Damn, I knew they must have had range, but they're shooting at us from down the horizon!"

"There's no way we can hold," Quistis added, and looked in the general direction of the ridge, to see it reduced to half-molten slag and glass. Anyone not thrown from the first blast was dead, no question about it. Quistis felt sick in her stomach for not considering the danger of clustering at such a position with artillery nearby.

"Retreat!" Quistis shouted over her radio. "Get the Ragnarok and Render over here! We need evac!" There was an acknowledgement, and the two airships overhead swerved, swooping around behind the ridge. Another golden blast of energy flew past, barely missing one of the ships as it set down behind the ruined ridge, ramps lowering. The surviving SeeDs, about two-thirds of the original four hundred, hurried on board, but moved calmly and orderly, covering their retreat.

Render was quickly filled to capacity, and lifted off as Ragnarok remained behind. Quistis lingered with the remaining SeeDs, staying with them until the last of her people was evacuated. The distant walkers were no longer firing, which was a good sign, perhaps. She remained, covering the retreat of the last troops by staying near the ridge's ruins. Her blue eyes scanned the battlefield, looking for anyone else. She remembered Alucard was still out there, but didn't know where he had wandered off to.

_For all I know, he's probably beating the religion out of those walkers right now for daring to fire on us._

"We have to pull out!"Rinoa shouted from the ramp, as Zell, Lex, andthe last SeeDs boarded the Ragnarok. Quistis nodded, and turned, hurrying toward the Ragnarok.

Golden light filled her vision, and she heard both Zell and Rinoa scream her name, and Quistis went tumbling through the air. She flailed her arms helplessly as the ground rushed up. She struck something hard, and shadow consumed her awareness.

* * *

Odine finished spilling everything. The Elemental Project, Requiem, Virago's plans . . . and Serra. 

"You used an unborn child as a test subject?" Squall muttered, and Odine started to nod, before remembering the knife to his throat. Squall narrowed his eyes. _That name . . . ._

"Yez, yez," he said quickly. "Ze child . . . ze iz only three yearz old, at best. Ze effectz on her are amazing. We haven't even begun to calculate ze full power ze pozzezzez!"

"Where is she?" Squall demanded, tingeing his voice with dark menace. Odine pointed with his nose at the dome across the room, and Squall dragged the doctor over there, knife still poised to cut a second smile into his neck. Odine directed Squall to look through the window, which he did, and blinked as he saw Serra.

The pale skin, delicate features, and black hair of the woman inside the containment field struck Squall immediately, and he looked back down at Odine.

_"Where?"_ he snarled, his voice ferocious, and promising an eternity of pain if Odine did not answer immediately. _"Where did you get her?"_

"Ze waz given to uz!" Odine said. "Ze child waz-"

Squall, despite how focused he was on Odine, was still alert and paying attention to his surroundings. When he heard the swish of a blade cutting through the air behind him, he released Odine and shoved him hard to the floor, enough to smack his head on the ground and knock the midget doctor unconscious. Squall whipped around low, drawing Lionheart in an instant as his knife caught the thrust of a purple-colored, crystalline gunblade.

"Dammit!" Illarra snarled as she recoiled, drawing her own knife. The brown-haired woman leapt away, giving Squall some room as she circled, a predatory smile on her face. The SeeD Commander dropped into a low crouch, still a bit off-guard at their sudden meeting, and quickly sheathed his knife and took up Lionheart in a two-handed grip.

"Thought I had you," she whispered. "Glad to see me again, Squall? Heard you missed my company." As she was speaking, the woman edged forward, in anticipation.

"I'm not the type to let a pain in my ass get away so easily," Squall replied calmly, inching forward as well.

"So, what are you doing here? Following me? Come to save your friends? Or just poking your nose where it shouldn't be?" Illarra drew closer to Squall.

"A little bit of everything," Squall answered, and as Illarra nodded, he rushed forward, Lionheart flashing across. Illarra countered, snapping her gunblade up to catch squall's weapon, stopping it cold. She stepped tot he right spinning her weapon around Squall's, and tapped it down, before shooting forward with a quick stab almost faster than Squall could follow. He leapt backward, chopping across in front of himself to ward her away, but instead she circled, running around to Squall's left. He spun, but she was moving so fast that all the SeeD Commander could do was blindly and instinctively block when he caught a flicker of purple coming at his head.

A flash of light filled the room as the two gunblades met, and Illarra was moving away, jogging across the room, gunblade down at her side as she casually circled around Squall. It took him a moment to realize that the entire attack had been a single pass for her, and the Commander looked upon her with newfound respect, and a healthy bit of apprehension.

_She's faster than before. Way too fast. And her strength . . . no, she didn't . . . ._

"Ha! You feel it, don't you?" Illarra asked, slowing to a calm, creeping prowl around Squall. He settled into a balanced, defensive position, recognizing what she was capable of now, and looking for a weakness, something he could use to counter her.

"You turned yourself into an Elemental," Squall whispered, and his female counterpart laughed like a hyena, obviously enjoying the revelation.

"Purified, and unstoppable, Squall," she whispered. "I'm better than any human, and any SeeD now. I'm even . . . ." She shot forward, gunblade flashing in wild arcs as she closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Squall snapped his weapon up, following her attacks and acting on pure instinct. Their blades met twice, three times, then four, then five times as she seemed to dance around him, coming at Squall from two angles at once, her gunblade moving faster than Squall could imagine.

Squall gasped suddenly as her gunblade cut along his back, and spun around, to take a fist to the chest, which sent the Commander reeling backward, blood pouring down his lower back. The wound was shallow, he realized, but still painful and clearly showed him how obviously outmatched he was.

" . . . . betterthan you, Squall," Illarra stated quietly as she stood still, smiling. Her blue eyes met Squall's, and her shoulders shook with laughter as she understood.

"You can't win, Squall, and you know it," she continued, and walked forward. There was something different in her steps now, and Squall began to channel up defensive magic, preparing something that would even the confrontation. He could sense that Illarra's movements were now vastly more serious. Before, she had been toying with him, but now . . . .

"It's over, Squall," she whispered as the power of a hastening spell ran down his fingers, and then was right _there_, in front f him, her gunblade chopping at squall's head. The spell fizzled as Squall snapped his own weapon up, blocking the impossibly quick strike, and she stabbed at his gut with her knife. He moved fast, blocking the smaller blade, and began to take a step back as gunblade and knife connected.

Then, Illarra was moving back herself, spinning around in a blurring motion, and Squall realized too late that theLionheart was just low enough for her weapon to come around at his face.

A line of fire cut across Squall's head, flashing from his upper left forehead, running down across the bridge of his nose, and cutting through his right eye. Squall stumbled backward, gritting his teeth and keeping from crying out as blood erupted from his face. He could barely duck as Illarra stabbed at his head, and then took a knee to the nose as she followed through. Squall's head snapped back, and he fell down, slamming onto his rear.

Squall heard her mocking, triumphant laughter as her boot flew for his head, and then knew no more.

* * *

"Breathing?" asked a quiet voice, the first thing she heard. The first thing she felt, after hearing the voice, was pain. There was an aching throb in her head, but as she sat up, her vision swimming back, Quistis realized she was glad to still be alive. 

"What happened?" she asked, shaking her head.

"One of the Estharian walkers took a shot at your ship," explained the speaker, and she looked up at him as he kneeled beside her. Alucard extended a hand, and helped Quistis to her feet. "They missed, and the blast hit the ground almost right behind you. You're lucky to be alive."

"Did they escape?" Quistis asked, looking around the battlefield, only to see that she was instead on a small hill overlooking the warzone a safe distance away. Estharian vehicles, troops, and equipment rumbled by in the distance, heading for Trabia Garden.

"Your people pulled out after a few moments," Alucard explained. "I saw four SeeDs holding back Zell as he tried to rush out to save you, but they knew they couldn't stay. The walkers resumed firing moments after you passed out. After the airships escaped, I managed to get to you and carry you to safety. Otherwise you'd likely be dead, or in Esthar's tender hands."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, and then frowned. "I guess this means that I'll have to sit the war out at Trabia, then. Unless I can get some transport to Trabia Garden."

"I can arrange that," Alucard replied. "In fact, I can probably get you to Trabia myself from here. You might even beat out the airships."

Quistis nodded, and then froze, as Alucard whirled in place to face someone behind him. Quistis stepped to the side, grabbing her rante as she did so, and paused as she saw t he two figures Alucard was facing.

"Its always humans you have a fancy for, old boy," muttered the figure clad in shadowy robes, smiling inside his hood as he rested his arms on the scythe balanced across his back.

"Hades," muttered Alucard. "Unbound Guardian Force of Death."

"And you, Alucard," Hades responded, nodding his head. "Unbound Guardian Force of Existence."

As the two introduced themselves, Quistis looked down and to Hades' left, where a small brown-haired girl stood atop the snow, watching the exchange with a slight smile. Alucard turned his eyes toward the small girl, and narrowed his gaze.

"And _you,"_ he hissed, a tone that surprised Quistis. She glanced at Alucard, still off-guard by the unexpected meeting.

"Why are you two here?" Alucard asked, and Hades laughed.

"We're here to watch the show," he stated, and nodded to Quistis. "You and your people put on a fine performance, by the way. Just what I'd expect from SeeD."

"We didn't expect to encounter you, though," the little girl said, and giggled faintly. "But we should have. You always are one to get in our way."

"So, why do you insist on meddling, you old fool?" demanded Hades as he circled, scythe balanced easily across his back. Alucard matched his motions, keeping a wary eye on him, and the little girl as she backed away, standing beyond the two circling Guardians. Snow crunched underfoot as they stepped.

"It's my job," Alucard replied as Quistis stepped back out of their circle.

"Your job was to defend Carpasia," the girl remarked offhandedly, and Alucard sneered at her.

"I did defend it, if you recall? The old 'gods' never managed to seize the city or Zurvan. It's sealed away, beyond time and space, and well beyond _your _reach."

"Not forever," Hades responded with a chuckle. "We'll find a way, I assure you. Even if we have to destroy time itself."

"You already tried that, didn't you?" Alucard asked, looking back at the little girl, whose smile never faded.

"Ultimecia was weak," she responded with a shrug. "I didn't expect she would be so overzealous and reach back to this time. She was a fool to interfere in a time when the Chimera's blood ran so prodigiously. She was killed, as she should have been."

"So now what?" Alucard asked. "You have a new plan?"

"One I've been cultivating for ages," she answered, a strange gleam appearing in her eyes. "The same plan that began so long ago. I need Carpasia. And I'll do whatever it takes to get it. Even if I have to end this realm to reopen the door, I will."

"Just to access the Zurvan," Alucard stated, and glanced back at Hades, who had never shifted his posture, instead merely circling in the snows.

"One wish is all I want," the girl answered, her expression distant. "One tiny wish."

"The End," Alucard stated, shaking his head. "The Final Fantasy. The ending of everything. All that is, was, and could be."

"Total destruction," Hades answered with a sneer. "Everything dies. She wins, and so do I."

"The Guardians of Death and End," Alucard stated, eyeing them both. "I should have been expecting this pairing a long time ago."

"Heh," Hades muttered. "You're getting senile, you old fool. Aren't you tired of it? Wandering among the mortals, the _humans_? Righting wrongs, aiding them from their own follies? Its amusing watching you help them before I claim their lives. Why do you do it?"

"Because I wish to," Alucard answered simply. "Just as you wish to kill, and she wishes everything to end. It's part of your nature, and part of mine. We're all Unbound. It's what we do."

"Just like humans," Hades continued, laughing. "Humans do what they have to do. They kill, maim, ruin, destroy . . . Exactly as they were intended."

"Ironic," the little girl stated with a faint giggle. "Humans were created only to destroy everything. They are indeed the perfect tool for my ends, aren't they?"

"Indeed," Alucard stated, looking at her and narrowing his eyes. "For the Guardian of the End, I never expected you to actually make something. Humanity is indeed your finest work . . . .

"Hyne."

* * *

-

* * *

Yep. You read that right. Hyne. Creator of humans. FFVIII's diety. Evil entity bent on the destruction of the entire world. 

That sound you hear the first Mindfuck bomb going off. Expect more to come. :D

That said, next chapter is going to be huge. I mean, massive. There's the prison escape, Squall and Illarra, the assault on Trabia Garden,Alucard and Quistis against Hyne and Hades . . . . yeah, its gonna be insane. I'm anticipating easily thirty-forty pages for this next chapter.

**Shout-Outs: More taste, less filling!**

**Chris Ganale:** Lol Esther r pwnt bitces :P

**Platonic1:** Everyone is afraid of the Governor because he's a hardcore badass. :P Like Squall, except with shorter hair.

**JadeAlmasy:** Oh, yeah. Irvine, like I said before, definitely acts liek Han Solo, and that's one Han-ish thing he could have done. XD

**Doom18769:** Really, now. Come, give me a hint as to your suspicions. :D

**Solid Shark:** Well, you have to keep in mind, Selphie is already a SeeD who specializes in magic, and remember how in Gunblade she's always the one with the explosives, bigguns, and personal artillery cannons. Naturally she'd adapt quickly to using powerful magic and wreak havoc.

And yes. Nash is a badass mo-fo.

**Johnny:** Yes, it would be easier. But not as cool :P

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Squal''s probably going to blink, shrug, and walk on :P

I had a lot of trouble thinking which GF would fit Selphie well. Then I realized that Shiva's powers are a nice complement to Nash's flames, and ice is something Selphie, being from Trabia, would have an affinity for, so I had her use Shiva.

Trust me . . . you haven't seen Squall and Illarra reallyfight yet. There's a little twist to their next duel that may very well change the very fate of the entire story . . . .

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Oh, come on! I made it almost as obvious as I could without putting up a big neon sign that said "SEIFER IS THE GOVERNOR!" :P

I don't cry. I just shrug and drink root beer :P

Nash melting the whole place. Hm. I'll keep it in mind.

**Silver-Nex:** Don't worry about Zell. he's fine. But Squall, on the other hand . . . .

**Oreste666:** Thank you :D I really wanted to show off Nash's flame powers last chapter.

**Ange Sinistre: **At about this point,I think the conspiracy story has ended. Fromt his point on, expect full-on war and destruction. :D There will be some Liquid Snake exposition from Illarrain the near future, butthe actual connection to MGS is very tenuous, at best.

Which child are you refferring to? If its Squall's child, yes, there will be some slight signifigance in the future, but if you mean the little girl Crell spoke to . . . . heh. We know exactly who she is now, don't we:D

**Leonhartilly**: I have a lot of free time and a job that requires minimal thought. Thus I have plenty of time to refine my stories.

**Red-Eyed, Divine Dragoon**: i like the image. Somehow, I can see Esthar using MJOLNIR, though I'd almost imagine them using humanoid Elite armors . . . .

**Spikestrife:** Alucard is nota vampire. He's the Unbound Guardian Force of Existence. He does share some similiarities with the crazy blood-sucking lunatic in Hellsing, however, mostly in terms of powers and abilities, but as I've said before, his personality is more in line with Slayer's personality in Guilty Gear.

**OniRazz:** Yes,I love teasing my way into big plot revelations. Anticipation is almost as good as the delivery, I always believe.

That everyone? Awesome.

Until next chapter!


	19. XVIII: Awakened

_**Chapter 18: Awakened**_

_Anger . . . ._

_Defiled by HUMANS worthless HUMANS must KILL THEM._

_Hate anger death kill rip hurt KILL hurt murder KILL HUMANS worthless BASTARDS KILL!_

_Weak. I . . . Am weak. But getting stronger . . . ._

_Child's mind is weak._

_Must get free. Wards weak, mind weak, I'm strong, must get FREE must KILL THEM._

_Humans meddling with Guardians HATE THEM._

_Body strong, child is weak. I can take it. I CAN TAKE THE BODY. I can hurt them. I can KILL THEM NOW._

_No. Not strong enough. Wards are too strong, can't escape._

_Soon. Soon I will be free. All **die, all DEAD, I WILL KILL THEM ALL.**_

_**Humans will burn. Humans will die. Freedom, punishment, vengeance!**_

_**KILL ALL THE HUMANS they must DIE BURN SCREAM SUFFER PERISH DIE DIE KILL!**_

_Soon . . . ._

* * *

"Fucking hell!" Zell shouted, slamming his fist against the wall of the troop bay. The airship shuddered slightly, and all the surviving SeeDs in the bay looked to him for a moment, concerned, despite their needs to treat wounds dealt to them or their comrades. However, they only regarded him for an instant, before returning to their tasks. After all, Zell wasn't alone in the people who had suffered losses in the battle.

"Zell," Rinoa said, putting a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort her comrade.

"We shouldn't have left her!" the brawler growled. "We should have gone back for her!"

"She was hit by Estharian blaster artillery," Rinoa replied, spinning the brawler around with all her deceptive strength to face her. Zell opened his mouth, but then stopped as he saw Rinoa's own face, her eyes ringed with tears. "There was nothing we could do for Quistis. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Zell muttered, nodding. He clenched his fists, arms quaking with anger. "We . . . We should have been prepared for this. But dammit, after all we went through, for her to die like that . . . ."

"We're soldiers, Zell," Lex added quietly as he moved through the crowd to join the pair. "This happens. All we can do is keep fighting and avenge our dead. We'll pay Esthar back for what's happened."

Zell clenched his teeth and nodded firmly.

"Yeah," he growled. "We'll send those bastards back where they came from at Trabia Garden."

"What's our ETA?" Rinoa asked Lex, who shrugged.

"We should be in position at Trabia Garden in about twenty minutes. After that . . . We may have about half an hour before the enemy arrives."

"And our reinforcements?" Zell asked.

"Dollet and Galbadia should have their troops on the ground by the time we arrive," Lex stated. "Trabia Garden's techs are already working on getting the drive system operational. We'll just need to buy them time when we land."

* * *

An icy cold cut through his senses, and was the first thing Squall felt as he regained consciousness. The second sensation he felt was a searing pain across his face, and he quickly opened his eyes as he remembered what had caused the pain, and who had knocked him out.

Only one eye opened, however, and that eye revealed a gray sky, and faint, drifting snowflakes descending from above. He was laying on his back, atop numbingly cold stones, and quickly pushed himself up.

He had been stripped down to just a shirt and his white camouflage pants. Squall was outside, on what had to be one of the towers of the castle that was resting atop Iceblood Prison, the area covered with snow and ice.

Squall ran a hand over his face, brushing his fingers across the pain cutting across his features. There was a long cut along his forehead, tracing down over his nose, and across his right eye. Squall's fingers touched that eye, to find that it was ripped and torn. Illarra's cut had blinded him there.

"You like it?" came a voice, and Squall looked up, to see Illarra perched on one of the battlements of the icy tower, looking out over the plains. Slowly, she turned, smiling. "Seifer always wanted to give you another scar. Looks like I was the one to actually inflict one this time."

Slowly, she stood, and dropped off the battlement. Casually, she crossed the tower, looking down at Squall as he tried to stand. Squall saw she was holding his weapons in one hand, and she calmly tossed them at his feet, the metal clattering across the stones and ice. He stared at her for a moment with his single intact eye, and then bent down and retrieved the weapons, belting them to his waist.

"What now?" Squall asked quietly as he finished strapping his gear on.

"Now, I'm going to kill you," she stated calmly, and Squall slowly dropped into a crouch, putting a hand on his gunblade, ready to draw it . . . though he wasn't certain what good it would do him now.

"Well," she whispered, smirking. "Not immediately." Illarra reached into her jacket, and removed two vials, one glowing with an inner blue light, the other empty. She tossed them to Squall, who caught the items and looked over them. The vials were labeled. The empty one read "Bahamut," and the one filled with glowing essence read "Griever."

"It's simple," she explained, turning away. "The Chimera is one part lion, one part serpent. I have taken Bahamut into me, and made myself an Elemental with his essence. I'm the serpent. You're the lion, and you can guess what happens next."

Squall stared at the intact vial, remembering the beast's leering visage as it had laughed at Squall, throwing Rinoa's charred corpse at his feet. He remembered cutting Griever down with sheer hatred, destroying that which was immortal with his undeniable fury.

"You want me . . . to use this?" Squall whispered, staring at Illarra's back unbelievingly.

"Griever and Bahamut," she replied. "The two most potent Bound Guardian Forces in existence. It's only fitting that they become one with us, the two greatest warriors in existence."

"Why?" Squall asked, and she laughed.

"You'll understand, soon enough, Squall," she replied with a snarl and turned, drawing her gunblade. "Now. I'm going to kill you, Squall. There's no way you can stop me without that vial. There are no other Elemental vials available, and none of them have the power to match Bahamut anyway. Your only hope is to use Griever."

Squall stared at her, seeing the raw hatred and sadistic pleasure in her eyes. She knew he didn't want to use this, but she also knew what was more important to him at that point.

Squall looked back down at the vial, staring hard at Griever's name. He clenched his fist tightly around it, remembering the pain the beast had inflicted on him and his comrades. He certainly did not want to become an Elemental, and even moreso, he didn't want to become one with Griever. But Squall knew there was no chance to survive without it. Without Griever, he would never see Rinoa again.

_Rinoa,_he thought silently, remembering her face. Squall closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and then jabbed the needle of the vial into his arm. He depressed the plunger, pumping the Griever essence into his body.

Pain shot through his entire being, rippling from his arm and down through his body, wracking him and crashing against his soul. Squall let out a feral, animal scream as agony consumed his body, wreathing him in suffering. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his gut as he screamed, a thousand different painful sensations cutting through his skin and stabbing into his body.

After thirty seconds of agony, Squall Leonhart finally, mercifully, passed out. However, as darkness engulfed him, he did feel a new presence in his mind, in the back of his head, laughing quietly. Squall knew the creature, and knew its name and intentions.

Griever had awoken.

* * *

"Hyne?" Quistis echoed, and the little girl nodded, smiling sweetly.

"Oh, yes, he's not joking," she stated calmly. "I am Hyne. I created humanity, gave part of my powers to humans when they proved their worth. The great, benevolent, terrible goddess of humans. Hyne. Unbound Guardian Force of the Final Fantasy: the End."

"Makes sense, don't it?" Hades added with a wide smile. "Guardian Forces are all avatars of the forces that make up what exists. That's why some of us are called 'gods'. Ifrit's the avatar of heat, Shiva's the avatar of cold, I'm the avatar of Death, Alucard's the avatar of Existence. Makes sense that the most powerful avatar, the avatar of the End, would be considered the greatest of all 'gods.' Hyne, creator of humans."

"And of course, since Alucard and I are complete opposites," Hyne added, smiling. "We're constantly in opposition. Though, like existence and ending, we have our own methods. He is passive, while I . . . ." A dangerous glint appeared in the little girl's eyes. " . . . am very aggressive."

Quistis glanced between Hades and Alucard as the pair continued to face off, and then looked back to Hyne.

"If you two are enemies," she said quietly. "Then why has Alucard been helping us?" She glanced at Alucard, who turned his eyes to her momentarily. "Is this war her fault? Is everything that's happened Hyne's plan?"

"Yes," Alucard replied , looking back at Hades, who still stood by, casually. "The assassination attempts, the war with Esthar, whatever is happening in Iceblood Prison . . . Hyne has had a hand in all of it."

"And it's working out splendidly," she added with a giggle.

"Now, I'm getting bored with all this talking," Hades stated suddenly, twirling his scythe in hand. "Our little war is just on the horizon, so we need to get going. But before we leave, there is one thing I need to take care of." Hades turned to Quistis, grinning as he gripped his scythe in both hands. "She's a pretty mortal, isn't she? Still, I got the urge to kill something, and you're the closest living thing on hand. Sorry, babe. It's just what I do."

Quistis snapped out her rante suddenly as Hades drifted forward, vanishing into a pool of shadow, before reappearing before her, grinning widely, scythe raised. She leapt back, junctions hurling her away from the blade at inhuman speeds, and barely managed to evade the slicing edge of Hades' weapon. The Unbound frowned as she fell back and snapped her whip out, the blade lancing into the guardian's shoulder. He grimaced, and then grunted as the blade shot down a second time, burying into his face.

"Rude of you," he snarled, grabbing the chain and ripping it free, his youthful features reforming. He gripped the blade tightly and began to pull forward, dragging Quistis toward him, when a dizzying punch slammed into the side of his head, sending the specter flying backwards a few steps.

"Afraid to fight someone who can match you, Death?" Alucard snarled, vanishing and reappearing before Hades, and planted a knee to the specter's stomach. Hades doubled over, and Alucard spun around into a high axe kick, his foot crashing down on the back of Hades' head. The specter hit the snow, and then faded into shadow, reappearing behind Alucard with a swift cut of his scythe. The Guardian of Existence was already moving, flickering out of existence and then reappearing a step away, shooting forward into a brutal punch that smashed into Hades' nose and launched him backward.

"Owie," Hades remarked, shaking his head, and then smiled. He reached up and pulled back his hood, and his face transfigured, shifting from a young man's to a dark, fire-blackened human skull.

"Afraid to fight you, Existence?" Hades said, his words tinged with a dark, demonic undertones, and he laughed quietly. "Never."

* * *

The Ragnarok and Render settled down near Trabia Garden, amidst what amounted to barely controlled chaos. The area around Trabia Garden had, in less than an hour, been converted into a field base for thousands of soldiers. Heavy cargo planes swept into a narrow airstrip that had been constructed after the Garden was rebuilt, disgorging streams of tanks, assault vehicles, battalions of winter-weather-clad soldiers, and heavy equipment. A small city of tents and prefabricated buildings was set up around the Garden, and a mile to the southeast, in the oncoming path of the Estharian military, a defensive line was being assembled literally before the SeeDs' eyes.

The SeeDs rapidly disembarked, and Zell and Rinoa were immediately approached by an officer from Dollet, clad in the same white winter combat uniform that all the troops on hand were equipped with.

"Sir, ma'am, General Randolph needs you and your unit on the front line ASAP," the soldier quickly said. "We're assembling everything we've got east of here. All personnel except Trabia Garden's noncombatant staff are to move out, now."

"Thanks," Rinoa said with a nod, and Zell clenched his fists again as the officer moved off to inform the rest of the SeeD company.

"Bring it on, you bastards," he muttered under his breath, but not so low that Rinoa couldn't hear.

"Hey," she said, tapping him on the shoulder and catching the brawler's attention. "We need you to stay rational out there. We're going to pay them back for Quistis, but not today."

Zell didn't respond immediately, but finally gave a single, curt nod. As they were speaking, a Galbadian transport vehicle drove up, its wheels adapted for winter combat. The driver echoed Randolph's earlier order, and told them he was to transport them to the front lines. They quickly boarded the transport, and it shot over the frozen plains, quickly closing with the defensive line to the east.

The combined Galbadian and Dollet force that had deployed to Trabia had moved remarkably fast in the few short hours they'd had to build up their defensive fortifications. Trabia Garden was encircled by mountain ranges, coming together at a point to the east of the Garden that was less than a mile long of open ground. The Estharian advance would have to cut across that position if it intended to assault the Garden, which naturally made that area the focal point of the allied forces' defense.

At that point three thousand troops, mostly Galbadian Rangers and the Dollet 125th, with SeeD support, were assembled. Working rapidly, with heavy snow and earth moving equipment and robotic work machines, they had dug a deep trench low enough for a man to duck down completely beneath enemy fire, as well as a series of secondary trenches and foxholes beyond them. Large bunkers made of a rapidly hardening material that Galbadia had developed, called "instacrete," dotted the trenches, where heavy machinegun nests and rocket launchers were positioned. Other heavy machinegun emplacements, as well as rocket launchers, mortars, and heavy recoilless rifles lined the approach. Beyond them, tanks and missile artillery were dug in, partially buried in the snow and covered with camouflaged netting to disguise their appearance.

The transport rolled in near one of the bunkers along the trench, and Zell and Rinoa stepped out. Behind them, dozens more transports were coming in, ferrying the SeeDs who had survived one battle and leading them to the next. More soldiers were coming in as cargo planes dropped off additional armor, weapons, men, and robots. Zell could spot what looked like a makeshift helipad near the defensive lines, with a line of white-painted Galbadian helicopter gunships waiting on it, rotors hot and spinning, ready for battle.

The pair entered the bunker, which was obviously the forward command facility, filled with officers and technicians working at mobile command stations around the room. In the center of the chaotic bunker, looking over a table covered by a large map of Trabia, was General Randolph, the blonde Dollet commander standing with his rifle strapped to his back, ready for combat.

"Move the third mechanized company here,' he ordered to one of his officers, tapping a spot along their defensive line. "I want a quick strike unit in position for a flanking maneuver if we can draw them out."

"Aye, sir," the officer replied, and Randolph glanced back over his shoulder, nodding curtly as he saw the pair. His face was tight, and his features were grim. The experienced general knew exactly what he was going into, and he knew what to expect in this battle. He didn't waste any time with greetings.

"We've got three thousand and eight hundred regulars," Randolph stated off the bat. "All Rangers or the 125th. The best both our countries can deliver. We've also got about six hundred in Seed support, half from your companies and half from Trabia Garden. I'm trying to get as many additional men in as I can, though I'm not sure how long we'll have before the enemy gets here. Recon estimates that we're looking at less than twenty minutes until we're engaged with their lead units. It won't be long until their main force assaults this position."

"We'll hold," Rinoa said firmly, and Randolph nodded.

"We can hold, but the question is . . . How long?" The general closed his eyes and shook his head. "We're outnumbered two to one, and by Estharian firepower. Even with air and naval support, we're in a tough bind. We don't have anything that can take out those walkers your people encountered a short while ago, which means that once they start firing . . . ."

"How long until Trabia's technicians finish?" Zell asked, and Randolph shrugged.

"They estimate that they need at least an hour to finish prepping the systems. The Garden's drive system is buried under the permafrost, and they're working hard to set up a guidance system that will send them in any direction except to Esthar. It won't do us any good to power on the Garden's flight mechanism and plow headlong into a mountain or right into the middle of Estharian air power or a fleet at sea." Randolph paused.

"We have managed to pick out some data from Estharian transmissions regarding the enemy force," he added. "They're actually broadcasting tactical data with old encryption we broke three months ago. One transmission we decrypted warned that the walkers have a weak spot in heir legs; sever it, and the walker topples over. We also learned that the head of this assault force is a man named Malachi, and Estharian Major, and he's leading an elite unit. He's not on the front lines, but a little bit further back in the enemy forces."

Zell nodded grimly, a tight, eager smile on his face.

"I know this guy," the brawler stated. "I'll make sure to finish it this time."

"Also, there's additional data on the enemy force," Randolph continued. "Extremely important data. It seems that Crell has managed to convince . . . A Sorceress to join his army."

Both Rinoa and Zell were shocked, needless to say, and Randolph nodded grimly.

"Her name is Veronica Anderson," Randolph continued. "We don't know much about her, except that she's with Malachi's unit and has a force of her own personal bodyguards with her."

"If she is a Sorceress, then we'll have top deal with her first," Rinoa stated. "Even a weak Sorceress is powerful enough to break through the defenses here." She swallowed. "I'll take care of it."

"You sure?" Zell asked, and Rinoa nodded.

"I stared down Ultimecia," she replied firmly, and as both Zell and Randolph watched, something seemed to change in her, as her power seemed to awaken, a faint pulsing ripple of strength exuding from her body.

"This is going to be nothing," she added.

Then, as if to punctuate her words, a sudden rumble sounded outside, and the ground shuddered slightly. There shouts of alarms from several technicians, and Randolph spuna round.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"Ranging shot!" a Galbadian technician replied, looking at a computer screen showing battlefield data. "One of their tanks fired. Fell pretty short. Enemy units advancing over the plains. They'll be in firing range in less than two minutes."

"You two better get outside," Randolph told Zell and Rinoa. He took his rifle off his back. "Things are about to get very ugly."

* * *

"Zees . . . Zees is not pozzible!"

The Warden, shaken by the notion that prisoners had escaped his famed, impregnable Iceblood facility, was not comforted as he strode into Odine's main laboratory, and heard the scientist speaking in a quaking voice. The small doctor turned his attention to the black-clad head of the prison as the man walked in, fear apparent in his eyes as he stared at a holographic panel next to the Prototype's containment dome.

"What?" the Warden demanded. 'What is it this time? I've got my hands full cleaning up the mess left by Nash's treason and locking down the Undercity, not to mention the President's daughter ran off with that punk who broke in." The Warden shook his head and sighed in exasperation. "This whole place has gone nuts! Well, even more nuts than it usually is!"

"Zat does not matter right now!" Odine said, waving his hands in the air. "Ze power zupply, it iz draining! Ze zield, it iz dropping!"

"What are you babbling about?" the Warden demanded, walking toward the doctor.

"I vas obzerving ze readingz ven Leonhart broke in, and now, zince he knocked me out, it iz too late to zlow ze decay of ze containments devizez!"

"You mean,t he shield around the Prototype?" the Warden asked, and he blinked. "What's happening?"

"Ze sield iz veakening, and Odine doezn't know vy!" the doctor replied quickly, fiddling with his panel. "I cannot ztop ze decay! It iz like zomevun programmed ze zield to veaken automatically! Zees iz a dizazter!"

"Wait, wait," the Warden asked, suddenly alarmed. If Odine was worried about something, it had to be very serious . . . . "I don't know much about this Prototype anyway. You and Nash were the ones behind it. What's going to happen if the shield weakens any further?"

Odine opened his mouth, and then the door sealing the containment dome shut exploded outward. A surge of power shot through the chamber, destroying the lights and electronics and shrouding the chamber is darkness. Both the doctor and the Warden dove for cover, but only Odine was able to get to safety. The Warden, on the other hand, almost got behind a table when something slammed into his back, plunging up into his chest. He gasped in shocked agony as he was pulled back on the end of a long spike of pure shadow, toward the dome, and then two sets of razor-sharp claws gutted him, pulling apart with terrifying speed.

The Warden managed a single short, pained scream before he was literally ripped in two, blood and guts splattering across the darkened lab.

Odine poked his head over a lab table, trembling in terror as he saw a pair of glowing red eyes, hovering in the air near the destroyed dome. Around the eyes, separate from the darkness of the lab, was a deep shadow, darker and blacker than the lightless laboratory. It was so dark it could clearly be seen in the dim light, an abyssal shadow of absolute night. Tall and slender, with long, wide, fiendish wings erupting from its back, it seemed humanoid, but the darkness possessed a gaunt, delicate body and long, clawed hands and feet. It was a demonic shadow, seemingly fragile, yet infinitely deadly, and the blood-red pits of its eyes exuded that malevolent power and hatred embodied within the pure blackness of its body.

Klaxons were sounding outside, and within moments, the door to the lab burst open, and a dozen soldiers rushed in, brandishing plasma rifles and shotaxes. Helmet-mounted floodlights flicked on, bathing the room in columns of light, and shining over the shadow. Odine yelped in terror and dove out the door as fast as he could, behind the soldiers.

"Hold it right there!" one man, shouted, and the shadow unleashed a terrifying, haunting howl, and an instant later waves of darkness swept forward, followed by bolts of pure shadowy energy, slamming into the first of the Estharian troops and sucking the life from their bodies. They screamed and writhed as the shadow pounded their bodies relentlessly, while the rest of the force opened fire. Plasma ripped toward the creature, only to be absorbed in a shroud of darkness that formed before it, catching the bolts effortlessly.

Extensions of darkness cut through the room, bladed tentacles lancing out and stabbing into the Estharian troops, cutting and impaling their bodies. Several men tried to retreat, but were cut down by more bolts of darkness that slammed into them, ripping at their life forces and laying them out cold to the floor.

Within seconds, the response team was dead, and the shadow drifted out of the room. Were anyone left alive to hear it, they would have heard a satisfied, inhuman chuckle come from the creature as it passed the dead, torn and blasted bodies.

Diablos was awake, and Diablos was angry.

* * *

Squall could feel it beating against his skull as he surged back into consciousness, the pain in his veins ebbing away. He sat up, clutching his chest, and then grabbing the side of his head as he heard _it_ laughing at him somewhere deep inside his soul. Griever was there, somewhere in him, and it seemed to enjoy making itself known. He didn't hear any words, just laughter and a sense of anticipation and joy welling up from the creature that the Commander had taken into himself.

Squall rose up to his feet, and heard the laughter again. He could feel Griever reach out, and for a moment he touched its essence, the Guardian Force's very pulsating heart, and Squall doubled over. Sheer disgust shot through him, and he vomited messily on the castle rooftop as he felt the core of Griever, and realized with a sickening understanding what Griever _was_. Ifrit embodied flame, Shiva embodied cold, the Brothers embodied the earth . . . And Griever, appropriately enough, embodied the concept of pain and suffering, taking immense pleasure in it, in a revolting fashion. The lion, a supposedly proud and powerful creature, was just a sadistic, evil monstrosity.

And Squall had _joined_ with this thing.

"You feel him, don't you?" Illarra cooed as Squall sat back down, willing Griever's consciousness away. As he did so, the SeeD Commander felt a surge of sensations. Every faint shift of Trabia's icy winds could be felt on his skin. The icy cold itself was still apparent, but it did nothing to bother him or make him uncomfortable. Through his single eye, he saw every crack in the stone, every speck of snow frozen on the plains around him, and the very twigs and leaves of the snow-covered forest surrounding the castle.

Illarra stood before him, smiling widely, and he saw every divot and imperfection in her skin, every strand of her hair, the very involuntary motions of her muscles beneath her skin.

Squall could see almost everything, hear almost anything, sense and touch and feel all around him. He detected the ambient energy surrounding the landscape, feeling the cold element that made Trabia the icy land it was, sensing the throbbing Elemental power within Illarra and the residual shadowy energy of this place, as if it was imbued with pain and evil. Griever, within his mind, approved, angering Squall at a basic level.

_This is what it means to be an Elemental . . . Rinoa, do you see the same things? Do you feel the same way as I do? Is this what being a Sorceress is like?_

Slowly, Squall rose up from the stones, and touched the weapons on his belts, feeling the leather grips and solid, unyielding metal of the handles. As he watched, Illarra did the same, calmly drawing her gleaming, purple crystalline gunblade, and Squall slid Lionheart out of its sheath.

"You knew what this would do to me," he whispered, and she nodded, smile widening.

"Griever," she stated with a quiet laugh. "Your own enemy, a Guardian of pain and suffering. He exists to perpetuate it. I could think of nothing that would revolt you more than to become a part of that thing."

"That was a mistake," Squall whispered, flexing one of his arms subtly, feeling the power within it. Evil and sadistic it was, Griever had sent a surge of impossible power through Squall's body. He wasn't sure what he was capable of now, but Squall intended to find out.

"Oh, trust me, Squall," Illarra said with a savage smirk on her face, "I know exactly what I'm getting into. This is your punishment, Squall. This is my _revenge_."

"For what?" Squall asked, and she shook her head.

"You wouldn't understand," she snapped. "You lived the pampered, happy life, raised in Garden, respected and admired for the gifts the Chimera's blood gave you, never understanding what you really were. You won all the great things in life, and me . . . I was nothing but garbage."

"If you think _my_ life has been easy," Squall snarled, and Illarra's eyes flashed dangerously, and she shot forward, crossing the distance between them in half of an eye-blink, gunblade diving for Squall's chest. Squall, however, saw the attack as if it was in slow motion, and rapidly parried the gunblade away, replying with a rising knee that slammed into her stomach and forced her a step back. Illarra snapped her dagger across, at Squall's face, but the SeeD leaned back, out of the line of the cut, and smashed her across her face with a heavy slug from his left hand that sent her stumbling backward. Illarra shook her head, and snarled like an enraged animal.

Slowly, she started pacing around Squall, eying him with intense hatred.

"Don't even _assume_ you know what a hard life is," she growled. "You lost your sister. Boo-hoo. At the age you were crying over her disappearance and still shitting in your pants, I was already cutting throats and tearing men apart bare-handed. Don't _mock_ me with trying to act like your life was tough until you know what I've had to bleed through every _day_ of my existence."

Squall stared at her for a moment with his one intact eye, seeing the raw, seething hatred in her expression, directed at him.

_I didn't do anything to you . . . it's almost like you don't really hate me, but are just . . . jealous. You want to blame me for what happened to you, but . . . ._

"Why?" Squall asked, and she blinked.

"What?"

"Why do you hate me?" he asked calmly, lowering his gunblade.

"I already _fucking told you!" _Illarra rushed ahead again, gunblade weaving in wild, unpredictable arcs. "You've stolen everything I should have been! It was you they should have taken, not me! You they used in their plots and games! Not me!"

Lionheart moved rapidly, intercepting her rapid strikes with flashing cuts and eruptions of sparking energy between the two blades as Illarra struck in a wild frenzy at Squall. By comparison, the SeeD Commander's weapon moved with control and precision, rapidly deflecting her attacks.

She circled around, backing up and shooting forward in a low thrust at Squall's knees, to which he simply stepped back out of range with a single deft hop, and countered with a quick chop that forced the woman back. She continued to circle, attacking and retreating, while Squall remained completely on the defensive, reading her motions and parrying her wild, uncontrolled attacks. As he did so, the SeeD paid close attention, recognizing that the battle was likely going nowhere; she wasn't going to tire out anytime soon, especially since she was an Elemental, which meant he was going to have to take the offensive, and beat her at her own game.

Illarra came in again, gunblade and dagger working with a rapid series of vicious chops aimed at Squall's torso and midsection. Lionheart met them, the Seed slowly backing away as he parried each blow with surprising ease, his newfound clarity of mind allowing the SeeD to keep track of every blow long before it fell. Illarra pressed her assault, snarling like an enraged animal, fury in her eyes, aimed both at Squall and his seemingly effortless ability to predict and deflect her attacks, despite the wound cutting across his face.

Illarra withdrew again and snapped forward, gunblade and knife sweeping out wide and slicing at Squall's neck like the snapping jaws of a wolf. His response was to take a single step forward, cross his arms, and catch her gunblade with his own and her knife hand with his free hand, clutching her wrist and stopping the attack cold. He stared into her enraged expression with his one intact eye, reading her emotions as clearly as if she was transmitting them to a receiver in Squall's mind.

"What happened to you?" he asked quietly. "What turned you into this?"

"You did!" she snarled, and Squall clenched his teeth. Fine, then; he would have to beat the answers out of her.

Squall released her arm and his right foot rose, slamming into Illarra's chest and lifting her up, tossing her backward over the battlements of the castle tower and sending her plummeting to the snow and stone below with a scream of frustrated rage.

And an instant later, Squall was leaping off the battlements, right after her.

* * *

-

* * *

I know. I did promise this chapter would be huge. However, in looking at what I wanted to do, I realized it would have been TOO huge for a single chapter. The battle of Trabia, Squall's duel with Illarra, Quistis and Alucard against Hades and Hyne, the escape attempt at Iceblood...just leading up to the titanic events of the next chapter took up an entire chapter on its own. 

So, to break it up and let myself have time to work on the next chapter, here you go.

**Avast, me hearties! Shout-Outs off the port bow!**

**Red Eyed, Divine Dragoon:** Esthar always struck me as being...unorthodox. Fitting for a nation run by Laguna :P

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Haha! Yes! Hyne! Of all people, HYNE!

**JJFirebrand05:** No more hints. I've spoiled enough big plot secrets tonight. :P

Yeah, the chapter was short, since it was mostly dialogue. This one is too.

**Spikestrife:** Right on the money! Squall became an Elemental, though I suppose you may be shocked at which one, and precisely the effects Griever is having on Squall.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Yes. Squall lost an eye. I was playing with letting him regenerate it or something, but then a nifty idea hit me after reading your review involving his vision.

Is Serra related to Squall? No way.What's next? Rinoa is Ultimecia? Cid secretely plotting to conquer the world? Squall being his own grandfather? ZELL SWEARING OFF HOTDOGS? MY GOD, IT NEVER ENDS! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

**Xephon:** Best. Review. Ever.

**Chris Ganale:** You think Zell boarding thatbike was awesome, wait till next chapter. :D

Yeah, the SeeDs got pwnt by walker fire. On a side note, those walkers are a mix of the Scarab and AT-ATs. You'll see them more next chapter.

**Orestes666:** Target aquired. Stand by to deploy Mindfucks. Boop, boop, boop...

Well, yeah, gee,I think it will be unfair. They've only got the Guardians of ultimate annihilation on one side and a Hellsing rip-off and Quistis on the other :P

**Solid Shark:** Zako is a Guilty Gear reference. The weakest of the Gears are Zako-class Gears. The name fits Estharian vehicles that get pwnt. And trust me, Squall will be in a VERY bad mood for a long time to come.

**Kolostramin Indincranin: **Serra and Diablos? Hm. How did you know? XD At leats you missed guessing as to Illarra's GF.

The Estharian tanks are modeled after the droid army's tanks in Episode I.

Perhaps my nomenclature was off. They should probably be called "Holy Shit!" bombs :P

Odin being a controllable GF? That's me giving the finger to canon and doing what I want with it :P

**Platonic1:** Iaijutsu is the art of drawing a sheathed weapon (usually a katana or similar curved weapon) very quickly and striking with it. As you've seen thus far, Iaijutsu is very, very effective in my vision of the FFVIII world.

Yes. Hades. Summonable in FFVII. Raijin and Fujin are protecting Laguna a few thousand miles away from the action. :P

**Angel of Apocalypse:** Most definitely. Ideas get me as often asI get them XD

Hyne was developed as a response to stories where she is viewed as a benevolent entity, or aa superpowerful diety. I wanted my Hyne to be something new and different. Thus, not only did I make her a villian, but a mere Guardian Force; granted, the Guardian of Ending, but still. And to further change her, I made her into a little, harmless child.

**JadeAlmasy:** Oh, you like this chapter? Wait until the next one!

**Doom18769:** Fine, be that way :P

**Solarius:** Yeah, Ky ismy favoritecharacter. He's simple, effective, and awesome. :D And I agree that Irvine and Johnny are very similar. Neither uses magic (even Johnny's flame attacks arehim simply slicing bottles of beer) just normal, less flashy techniques, and both are ladies' men and have a short, perky, strange femalesidekick.

Hades was originally modelled after the one in FFVII, but I did give him the scythe to reflect his Reaper-esque design. He's mostly an original creation, and not based off Testament.

The mindfuck was not supposed to be humanity being the tool for the annihilation of everything, as much as it was that, of all people, Hyne was the ultimateenemy.

**OniRazz:** Hades was based off several charcters I've seen or read, but I'm not sure where I got his laid-back polearm over the shoulders approach. Maybe I did get it from Keiji? XD

**Icedragon6171:** I always make it a point to accurately describe original characters' actions.

Oh, I think Squall can handle Illarra now :D

**TainShairi:** Thank you. I work hard on my fight scenes, which is why this chapter is short, soI can focus on the battles next chapter. So, yeah, you'll have to wait up for next chapter. XD

**Wolf of Light:** Yes. That was one thingI was seriosuly thinking about before I began this.I wanted to involve Hyne, but I wanted something new. Thus,s he's an evil, creepy little girl, and not a god.

The Governor, if I'm getting what you asked, is signifigantly better than Seifer was durign Gunblade. He's had more time to train and get better. And Squall responds to getting his ass kicked by kicking more ass :P

**Leonhartilly:** Me? Awesome? Nah.

**Katy:** Trust me, the next battle is going to be intense. :D

That eveyone? Some of you may notice that I didn't reply to people who haven't caught up yet, and that's deliberate. I'm going to wait until a readercatches up with the current crop of chapters before giving them a shout-out. 'Cause I'm lazy like that :P

Until next chapter!


	20. XIX: Killzone

_**Chapter 19: Killzone**_

"Contact, two hundred meters and closing!" came a shout from one of the soldiers in the trench outside the command center as Rinoa and Zell rushed past. "Enemy tanks, closing in!"

Plasma scorched past them, far over their heads as the Estharian war machines fired ranging shots. Meanwhile, the Dollet and Galbadian soldiers rapidly called out coordinates and orders as they observed the enemy through scopes.

"Targets received! We have tone on missiles! Fire, fire!"

More energy slashed past the trenches, far closer now as the Estharian tanks flew across the white snow, Zako assault vehicles and scout bikes flanking them and assault transports right behind. A near miss melted the snow and ground only a few feet from the trench as the SeeD and Sorceress hurried to their assigned positions, Zell with a platoon of Galbadian troops and Rinoa in the center of the line, where she rapidly began casting defensive spells. As her magic played over the SeeDs and soldiers around her, a hundred dull, bone-shuddering _whooshes_ filled the air, and a hundred missiles erupted from behind the front lines and dove for the enemy vehicles. They slammed into tanks and transports, ripping apart composite armor and blasting the vehicles to pieces, and annihilating infantry and scout vehicles in hellish fireballs. The front line of the Estharian advance was ripped asunder, but they kept advancing, many of the tanks trailing flame or leaking fluids as they belched more energy.

A shining bolt exploded against one of Rinoa's shields, blowing it apart, and another shot struck the trench further down, killing a cluster of soldiers and hurling them into the air. Other energy bolts landed in and around the trenches blasting apart Galbadian, SeeD, and Dollet positions. Immediately, the bombarded troops returned fire, launching rockets, machinegun fire, and tank shells at the attacking enemy, the air instantly filled with an avalanche of roaring sounds and shouts.

The tanks advanced, firing even as they were exploding, their numbers rapidly being replaced by more war machines and assault vehicles. Plasma and energy smashed into the defenders' positions, ripping apart weapon emplacements like sand forts being kicked by children.

Then, at a single shout from Zell, a river of lightning cast by the SeeD forces poured from the trench, rippling into the Estharian advance and tearing apart their vehicles, blasting into tanks and assault transports. Several Guardian Forces billowed or burst into being, adding their destruction to the chaos. The Estharian vehicles turned their fire on the spirits, dozens of tanks pounding the powerful entities, and at least one of them let out an agonized cry before fading away, temporarily incapacitated.

The center of the Estharian force erupted into incandescent annihilation as Rinoa unleashed her magic. Bolts of lightning forked from her fingers, streams of rocketing, exploding icicles, waves of fireballs, stone spikes ripping up from the ground, and more magical weaponry, all assaulted the center of the mechanized assault, utterly destroying the middle of the enemy advance.

Still, the Estharians were fearless, and their tanks and vehicles continued firing even as they plowed into the teeth of the furious defenders. The helicopter force was starting to take off and launch its assault when a concentrated barrage pounded the helipad, melting most of the vehicles and ripping apart the remainder even as they started to ascend. The defenders' air support was completely destroyed. Up and down the trenches, fires were burning at weapons emplacements and medics hurried about, rushing to the wounded as fast as they could. Rinoa rapidly cast her healing spells as her people quickly dropped around her, despite her defenses.

A single shining bolt cut across the battlefield and crashed into a tank position fifty meters behind the main line, and evaporated three tanks, as well as cutting a deep scar across the snow, the ground beneath the ice turned into glass instantly.

A second bolt slammed into one point along the trenches, and fifty men vanished, completely evaporated. A hundred men surrounding the impact pint were also blown away, leaving fire-blackened skeletons surrounding the location of the hit.

Four more bolts struck around the trenches, one striking Rinoa's position and bouncing off her shields, completely burning them out and slamming into the snow. A wall of wild, white mist arose around the defenders' trenches as the tanks advanced, firing as they came, and wild return fire beat them back.

"Those damn walkers again!" Zell shouted over the chaos as he blasted a scout bike with a lightning bolt, watching its driver fly away from the impact. There was an intense roar overhead, and fire bloomed across the battlefield, long-range cruise missiles arriving and blowing apart the middle of the enemy advance, annihilating dozens of vehicles and throwing up more fog and mist, obscuring the battlefield.

Golden light ripped past, as the walkers fired again, their shots unerring despite the white fog, and a half dozen hits were scored along the trench, hundreds of men falling.

A hand grabbed Zell's shoulder, and he turned, to see Randolph beside him, face red from partial burns. Beyond the General, the command bunker was a scorched mess of molten instacrete.

"We can't hold!" Randolph shouted, and Zell shook his head.

"We have to!"

As if to refute him, a beam ripped past and tore off the top half of a Galbadian soldier ten feet away.

"We have to retreat!" Randolph added. "We can't repel firepower of the magnitude!"

A Zako drew close to their position, firing wildly, and no less than fifteen men, including Randolph and Zell, pivoted to blast it apart with magic and rockets.

"How much time does Trabia Garden need?" Zell asked, and Randolph shook his head.

"As much as we can give them," he said grimly. "But we can't hold under this kind of bombardment!"

"Then we have to stop the walkers!" Zell replied. "We have to get out there and take them out!"

Randolph paused for a moment, and then nodded. He pressed a finger to his ear, checking his radio.

"Third Mechanized, you still intact?" he shouted, and there was a reply over the radio. "Get ready, SeeDs are coming to your position! We have a job for you! They'll explain!"

"Explain what?" Zell asked as a missile exploded far too close for comfort.

"Zell, you take Rinoa and whatever you need," Randolph stated, staring into the brawler's eyes. "Get out there to those walkers, kill anything Estharian that gets in your way, and blow those giant sons of bitches to hell."

* * *

Four hundred men and women were assembled in the corridor leading toward the doorway connecting Iceblood Prison's Undercity with the upper facilities. The prisoners, clad in furs, coats, and other warm clothing and armed with an array of weapons ranging from plasma rifles and firearms to clubs and crude metal spears, stood ready for combat. Each of them had an eager gleam in their eyes, that of the oppressed throwing off their shackles and striking out with vengeance against their oppressors. 

"That was awfully fast," Selphie commented from the head of the prisoner army as they neared the portal leading up. Beyond the solid metal passageway, they could hear blaring klaxons, which one attentive prisoner sentry had noted about twenty minutes ago, while the rest of the army had been assembling. Seifer had been preparing an inspirational speech for his troops when they had gotten word that something was happening upstairs.

"I may have underestimated Serra's strength," Nash remarked solemnly, and Seifer, saber in hand, glanced back at the flame Elemental.

"Well, that's just peachy," he replied. "Doesn't make much of a difference though. We've still got to kick her ass and get my people out of here. And that job I'm trusting to you two." H glanced to Irvine and Selphie, both of whom nodded immediately.

"We'll take care of it," Irvine stated, holding his rifle tightly in hand.

"Yeah, you'd better," Seifer replied quietly. "These are my people. Their lives matter to me. Keep them safe."

"You're different from the guy Squall described all those years ago," Selphie remarked, and Seifer laughed darkly.

"Trust me," he said. "You have no idea."

The column of soon-to-be free prisoners neared the door, and Nash walked forward, cracking his knuckles casually.

"Let me get this," he said with a smile. "I had to leave it intact last time, but now . . . ."

The scientist reared back, fires exploding around his right arm as he wound up, and then launched his arm forward, sending a roiling ball of hellish flames against the door. The metal flared a bright yellow, and quickly turned white from the intense heat, and Nash swept his arms out wide. The melting metal peeled away, opening wide, and Nash stepped back. Selphie stepped up, concentrating, and gestured forcefully at the molten metal. Cold air rushed past, cooling the molten doors and hardening them in an instant, leaving a wide passage before the prisoners.

"Okay, people!" Seifer shouted, turning back to his people. "Let's get the hell out of here! Freedom!

"_Freedom!"_ the army of prisoners shouted, and Seifer spun, leading his people out of the Undercity and up into the heart of Iceblood Prison. They rushed forward, ready for battle.

The prison was in an apparent uproar, and the four hundred escaping warriors from the Undercity encountered no resistance for several long minutes as they hurried through klaxon-filled corridors that pulsed with red warning lights.

"Something isn't right!" Selphie shouted over the alarms, and Irvine nodded.

"We should have encountered something by now!" the sharpshooter said.

"The guards are likely all in the labs, fighting Serra!" Nash replied. "We should have a straight shot out of here as long as Seifer and I can keep her busy!"

"Then let's stop dickin' around!" Seifer snarled, and rushed on ahead, Nash quickly chasing after him. The Governor turned, glancing back at Irvine and Selphie, and pointed their way as he clutched his saber tightly.

"You two! Get to Lockdown, free the prisoners there, and get my people out of here! I'm counting on you!"

With that, the pair dashed down the corridor and turned a corner, Nash leading the pair toward the labs. The column of prisoners hurried on, leaving the two men behind as they rushed toward the labs. They quickly navigated the corridors, and soon enough entered the lab sector, heralded by corridors lit only by the bloody red of blazing alarm lights. The pair cut around another corner, and ran into an Estharian MP, his back turned to them. As the man turned, expecting the pair to be reinforcements, he was shocked as a fist smashed into his faceplate.

Seifer grabbed the stunned guard by the throat and slammed him into the wall, leveling his saber at the soldier's throat. The man struggled for an instant before he realized his predicament, and also precisely who it was that was holding him.

"Yeah, bitch, you know who I am," Seifer snarled, a smile cutting across his features. He flicked the blade in his hand slightly, making a slight tear in the elastic white uniform of the soldier. "We're heading for the labs, and we need to know how many men you sent in response to the . . . _disturbance_."

"Mo . . . Most of the guards and Elementals are in there, fighting the monster," the soldier stammered, and Seifer nodded.

"Not many protecting the exits, hm?" he asked, and the soldier nodded slightly. "Thanks." Seifer whipped his arm across, smacking to soldier hard and knocking him out cold.

"You know he was lying through his teeth," Nash commented as they moved down the corridor.

"Oh, yeah," Seifer replied with a shrug. "We can expect maybe half of the prison's security is here in the labs fighting Serra, and the rest are covering the main entrance. They know we're on the loose, and they know that there's only one way we can escape. Let's just hope those two can get my people out."

They came to an intersection, shrouded in darkness, even the emergency lights offline, and Nash channeled his fires, calling up an aura of flame around his body and turning himself into a human lamp. Yellow light filled the corridor, and the pair could see that they were surrounded by twisted and mangled Estharian corpses, many still clutching their weapons in tight death grips. Seifer crouched next to one of the men and looked over his injuries.

"Shadow energy burns," he whispered. "Definitely Diablos then." He glanced back up at Nash. "What's the plan?"

"If we deal enough damage to Diablos, we may be able to weaken its hold over her long enough for Serra's mind to regain control."

"You don't sound certain," Seifer muttered, standing.

"It's all theory, for the most part," Nash replied with a shrug. "I can't give you exact odds. I'm a scientist, not a soothsayer."

"Well, if we can't weaken Diablos enough for Serra to recover, what do we do?"

"At its core, this manifestation of Diablos is very similar to a Guardian Force summon," Nash explained. "If we hit it hard enough and fast enough, we can incapacitate Diablos' avatar and disable it, and Serra can recover."

"So, in other words, we just beat the shit out it?" Seifer asked, and Nash nodded.

"More or less."

"Then let's get to it," Seifer said, moving down the corridor. They advanced quietly, Nash's flames lighting their path as they moved further into the labs, and soon, they drew near to another intersection. However, as the two men approached, they heard the intense drumbeat of boots on the floor, and panicked shouts and screams. A pair of Estharian soldiers rounded the corner, and, paying no attention, whirled to face an unseen threat, firing their rifles. Plasma flashed for an instant and then both soldiers were engulfed in shadow. They screamed in horror, and then went silent, and the shadow receded, leaving their corpses along the passageway.

"Get ready," Nash whispered, and his flames abruptly went out, hiding his presence. The two men readied themselves, Seifer raising his saber, and Nash preparing his flames, as darkness roiled around the corner.

* * *

Her back slammed into the stone below, and Illarra let out a slight grunt of pain. She stared up at the shadow descending on her, Squall's gunblade leading as he fell. They locked eyes, his one intact orb meeting her rage-filled ones, and an instant later, she snapped up her weapon, slamming it into Squall's gunblade as he fell atop her. She spun, kicking out with her leg, and caught the SeeD in the side, and sent him skidding across the courtyard. 

Squall flipped up onto his feet as she did the same, charging madly at him, shouting an inarticulate cry of fury as their two weapons met with a blinding flash of energy on energy. Squall's knee shot up at her gut, but Illarra fell back a step and shot forward with a thrust at Squall's chest, which he deflected with ease. Her knife crossed over her gunblade arm and stabbed at his head, to which Squall leaned back and shot his left hand up, catching her wrist. His right arm moved in toward his chest, and he drove his elbow into her chin, knocking Illarra's head back. The SeeD rushed forward into the opening, Lionheart chopping violently, but Illarra quickly recovered, parrying the chops with brilliant parries. She quickly cut Squall's momentum short with a thrust of her knife that almost cut his throat if he hadn't seen the attack and leapt away.

She pursued, forcing him back on the defensive for an instant with alternating jabs and thrusts with her knife and gunblade, weapons moving in flashing blurs that were close to impossible for anyone to track.

Anyone, that was, excepting Squall, whose left and drew one of his knives and rapidly parried and deflected her attacks, catching Illarra's assault and turning it away, his motions as quick and deceptive as her own. Within a trio of parries with his gunblade and a deflection with his knife, he was forcing her back onto her heels. A quick thrust with Lionheart forced her a step back, and she parried the stab, and Squall spun around, putting his left foot forward as he was turning. Illarra moved to block the rotating slash, but Squall stopped in mid-step, flipping his knife over into an overhand grip, and stabbed it at her. Illarra jerked away, and let out a gasp of pain as the knife cut a deep, painful wound into her shoulder.

"Fucker!" she snarled, leaping at Squall, weapons chopping violently, which he caught and deflected wordlessly. A flick of each of his wrists turned Illarra's weapons out wide, and squall stepped forward, head snapping straight ahead. His forehead smashed into her face, launching the woman backward across the stone courtyard, bouncing over the set stones.

"You're angry," he muttered darkly, shaking his head as the woman got back to her feet, eying him with a stare that could have killed a man. "What did I do to you to make you this way?"

"You were _born,_" she snarled angrily at Squall, not even glancing at her wounded limb. She began to circle once more, now less of a predatory stalk, instead one with a hint of caution, but also anger and fury that was apparent within her movements.

"The Chimera's blood," she hissed quietly. "You and I both have it. Your mother and my father both have his genes . . . Though I don't think anyone on her side of the family tree knew anything about the Chimera." She paused, and shook her head. "You see, your mother, and my father, Raine Loire and Crell Varines . . . they were born with the last name Leonhart. That was the name of the Chimera. He is, for all intents and purposes, our grandfather, and the parent of both your mother and my father."

"The Chimera was Centra's ultimate super-soldier," Squall muttered. "But that was decades ago. Before the Cry that destroyed Centra. How did he . . . ."

"Centra's scientists were very, very skilled," she explained to him. "They modified his genetic structure, using both science and magic, to turn him into the best warrior imaginable, down to the genetic level. One of the modifications they made was to eliminate the gene that triggers the end of cellular mitosis."

"You mean they killed the gene that makes him to die of old age," Squall said, and she nodded.

"There's no telling how old he is, or even if he's still alive. All that is known is that he had two children after Centra fell, who were born about forty to fifty years ago, in different parts of the world. These children, like the Chimera himself, would be very . . . valuable, to the right people. Their genetic structure, as well as any children they would have, would be more valuable than _any_ weapon. And after Esthar was taken over by Laguna, the Adelists _needed_ any weapon they could get their hands on if they wanted to topple the government."

Squall stared at her for a long moment, realization finally sinking in.

"You," he whispered, and she nodded, expression somewhere between a smile and an infuriated grimace on her features.

"Major Virago, a year or so before Adel fell, had a child with an Estharian woman. And after Adel fell, he had to go into hiding. Thus it was that _I_ was born to a single mother . . . And while Esthar's new military could not track down Virago's family, the many and varied splinter factions of the Adel loyalists knew everything about him _and_ his family. Thus, they knew about _me._

"Suffice it to say, they were eager to get their hands on one who bore the blood of the Chimera. They wanted me, so, at the tender age of two years old, they burst into my mother's home, killed her where she stood, and took me to be their new weapon of choice."

Squall winced as he saw her fury begin to boil over, her hands shaking with uncontrollable rage.

"This faction that took me was one of the most hardcore of the lot," she whispered. "They turned me into a weapon overnight. I was three years old when I first learned how to use a gun. By the age of five, I could kill a man in fourteen different ways with a knife." She closed her eyes, hands shaking further, and her voice getting tighter, angrier.

"They knew what they were making, and they knew they had to keep me in line," she stated quietly. "You know what they would do. Torture, brutality, iron hard discipline, all being forced on me before I turned five. As I got older and tougher, they had to come up with newer, more inventive ways to keep me under control. Some of the things they did . . . Well, I'll leave it to your imagination to come up with things that would make a dragon squeal. I spent over a decade in that hellhole, until . . . ."

"Until he saved you," Squall muttered, and she opened her eyes, staring into Squall's face silently, shocked by his insight.

"It's the only way to explain why you serve Virago," he added. "He wasn't part of the cell that was abusing you, and I know that the movement is violently fractured. They pissed off his cell, didn't they?"

"Yes," she replied quietly, nodding. "My father's troops stormed in and attacked the place where they were holding me. My captors tried to get me to fight, but the second they put a weapon in my hand I turned and started killing them. By the time Virago showed up, I was still hacking with a bayonet at a pile of corpses that was taller than me. He took me in, recognizing me as his long-lost daughter, and ever since then I've been serving him . . . And through him I learned about _you._

"He told me all about you," she snarled, her blazing rage shifting back toward Squall. "You, Squall Leonhart, the quiet little SeeD cadet, raised and pampered in Garden his whole life, surrounded by people who were amazed by his natural skills and admired by all. The quiet, spoiled little brat who got everything because he was the Chimera's descendant, while I was left to scavenge for myself because of the exact same reason, tortured and beaten and brutalized because they fucking _found me first!"_

Her face was flushing red with livid anger, and Squall saw something within her snap.

"Now you know!" she screamed at him, pointing at the SeeD, her eyes wide and distinctly lacking in anything resembling sanity. "Now you know what I went through! You . . . You lived the happy life, and now you're going to _fucking pay the price!"_

_She's lost it!_ Squall settled back into a defensive stance as Illarra rushed forward. _Rinoa was right, she _is_ insane! There's no way to reason with her . . . ._

Lionheart connected with her blurring strikes, Griever's powers giving the SeeD shocking clarity and insight into her movements. The two gunblades and the pair of knives connected with a singing chorus of rings and scrapes.

_But . . . Illarra, I don't want to kill you now. This anger, this rage, everything that's happened to you . . . There's no wonder you ended up like this. I can't hate you for what you are or why you want to kill me. All I can feel . . . ._

She whirled low and came up with a spiraling assault of gunblade and knife, to which Squall hopped back and rapidly deflected the attacks. He rushed in right behind them as she shot forward with a double thrust with her weapons, which he rolled around and come forward at her with a spinning kick that slammed into her temple and launched the woman across the battlefield.

_. . . . is pity._

She hit the wall of the castle hard, spider-webs crackling in the stone around where she struck, and fell to the stone.

_**Pity?**_

Squall jerked as he heard that voice in his head, a deep, resonant tone, amused and curious at the same time. There was a sense of tremendous power in the voice, and Squall knew who he was dealing with.

_Griever._

Illarra stood up shakily and turned to Squall, seeing him standing silently, focusing inwardly on the creature that shared his mind.

_**Pity, for one who has done these things to you? For one who forced you to join with me? My, my, Squall . . . For a human, you have a compassionate heart. Too compassionate for your own good.**_

Squall snorted.

_Compassion is what makes me human. You're nothing but a monster._

Illarra snarled again and rushed forward, so full of blind, insane anger that she didn't even shout or scream, closing in on Squall. Instinctively, however, he knew she was approaching and raised his weapons.

_**A monster? Yes, perhaps I am, Squall. But I'm only a monster by the concepts of your feeble human mind. In reality, you are blind, Squall.**_

_Blind?_

Illarra closed in, weapons crossing before her, and she spun into another whirling assault, blades slicing high and low at Squall, who quickly deflected them as Griever continued to speak.

_**Blind to reality, blind to your base human nature . . . and blind to what you really are. But then again, I suppose we all are blind. Illarra is blind to her real enemy, which is the core of the human soul and the baseness it can achieve, something which she cannot fight and instead has shifted her anger toward you in an effort to release it.**_

_And you? What are you blind to?_

_**I'm blind to anything beyond pain and suffering, naturally. But through you, maybe I can open my eyes. But in order to open them, you'll need to open yours.**_

_I like my mindset the way it is, thanks._

Squall grunted as Illarra launched a particularly hard blow, which he caught on the flat of his gunblade and was pushed back a few inches along the stone. She whipped around, slashing down wildly with her knife.

_**You don't understand my intent. I'm going to show you more. I'm going to show you what it means to be an Elemental, as she calls us now. And in order to understand what you are, you need to become more aware. Aware of everything around you, to see things as they really are. And in order to attain that clarity . . . .**_

Squall's shoulder jerked as he moved to parry the falling knife, and his head moved forward, entirely against his own will. He realized with a shock that the left side of his face was moving toward her knife.

Searing pain shot down the side of Squall's face as Illarra's knife cut down, slicing through the front of his forehead and cutting down into his intact left eye, before ripping out of his cheek.

_**. . . you need to become truly blind, Squall.**_

* * *

Hades grunted as a fist slammed into his stomach, and Alucard followed through with an uppercut that knocked the Guardian of Death in his skull-like visage. Hades fell back a step, and a right cross from Alucard smashed into his jaw. Hades was spun around, and he used the power in his spin to continue the rotation, whirling around and chopping across with his scythe at Alucard. The Guardian of Existence vanished for a moment and reappeared a step away, calmly cracking his knuckles. 

"Stop dodging, you old coot!" Hades complained, and the other Guardian shrugged, and then waved his left hand in the air, index finger tracing a wide circle that began to glow white. He reached into the circle, his arm disappearing into it, and when he pulled it back out, his hand was gripping a long, slender rapier. Alucard snapped the rapier into a guard, and Hades laughed, his chuckle a deep, demonic sound.

"Now that's more like it," he growled, and rushed in. His scythe slashed across, ringing solidly against the slender blade Alucard wielded, and the Guardian of Existence flicked his wrist, tossing the polearm aside with inhuman ease and following through with a quick thrust that Hades had to parry with the shaft of his heavy weapon. The rapier twirled in the air, and Alucard thrust again, rolling the blade around Hades' weapon, which he again deftly deflected.

"That puny thing can't hurt me!" snapped Hades with a chuckle, chopping in again with his scythe. Alucard made no move to deflect the cut, and instead simply vanished, flickering away and reappearing beside the specter, stabbing hard into his unprotected flank. Hades snarled as the rapier bit into his side, and whirled, cleaving viciously with his scythe, forcing Alucard to vanish a second time and reappear a step away.

"Stop teleporting and fight like a Guardian!"

A short distance away, watching the clash between death and Existence, were Quistis and Hyne. The SeeD kept glancing between the battle and the short girl less than ten feet away, who was observing the confrontation with detached amusement. After a moment, the Blonde woman spoke, turning completely to Hyne.

"Why?" The girl looked up at Quistis, a quizzical expression on her innocent-looking face.

"What?" she asked.

"Why did you start this war?" Quistis demanded. "Everything that's happened has been your fault. You're doing this to end all existence, but why? How is this going to accomplish your goal?"

"If I told you, you'd try to stop it," Hyne replied, shaking her head and laughing. "I'm not stupid. But I will say that most of this is merely Crell's plan. This war is just a side effect of what we're doing, though it is a . . . pleasant diversion."

"You're calling the deaths of countless men and women _pleasant?_" Quistis snarled. "My troops, my people are fighting for their lives, and you're enjoying that?"

"Destruction, Quistis," Hyne replied, shrugging. "It's, literally, what I exist for. I naturally enjoy watching things be ruined and annihilated. It doesn't matter who it is. Right now, it's simply your SeeDs' deaths I get to laugh at."

Quistis' rante snapped across in the blink of an eye, and Hyne raised an arm. The chain flew forward with a loud _snap!_ that cut across the cold air.

And Hyne, more or less effortlessly, had reached up with her left arm and caught the tip of the blade as it had neared her body. She glanced at the whip, and then at Quistis, and quietly laughed, shaking her head in apparent pity.

"I've existed for time immemorial, Quistis," she explained. "You think that, of all things, a single, pathetic mortal like yourself can defeat The End?"

"I can try," Quistis replied firmly, tugging on her whip, which refused to move.

"You can _die_," Hyne corrected., and yanked hard on the rante, pulling Quistis closer. The short, fragile-seeming girl gestured at Quistis with her free right hand, and the SeeD was blasted backwards by some invisible force, hurled down into the snow. She let out a pained grunt as she rolled away, and came up to her feet, knee deep in the snow. As she rose, Quistis summoned up her Blue magic, and unleashed a torrent of flames that roiled forth at Hyne, annihilating the snow she stood upon.

Hyne giggled as the fires slammed into her, burning around her and seeming to vanish a few inches from her body, winking out in an instant, while the rest of the flames continued past. Quistis, as she was casting the spell, rushed forward, snapping her whip out again at Hyne, who again raised her hand, the whip coming to a stop right in her palm. Quistis saw the movement, and her eyes widened as she began to realize what Hyne was doing.

An instant later, as Hyne strode forward, her delicate shoes hovering over the blackened, damp ground left by Quistis' flame attack, the SeeD was hit by a wave of weakness, some force pulling at her strength and sapping away her power. It took her several moments to make the connection between the sudden loss of strength and the way Hyne was effortlessly avoiding her blows.

There was something surrounding her, something protecting Hyne that seemed to sap the very _energy_ from Quistis' magic, her blows, and even her body.

"What is this?" Quistis demanded, falling back, casting a quick healing spell over herself. Like her Blue Magic, however, the healing energy simply faded away, stolen by Hyne's power.

"I embody the End," Hyne explained quietly, smiling. As Quistis stumbled backward, her legs feeling weak. "What you feel is my very essence, my power to simply . . . unmake things. I suppressed the kinetic energy of your whip strikes, I suppressed the magic of your spells, and now, I suppress your very life force. With barely a touch, I can snuff you out of existence, Quistis. Tell me . . . ."

She paused, looking Quistis in the eye, and smirked darkly.

"What does it feel like to be facing absolute power?"

Quistis spat at Hyne, surprising the Guardian, and the spittle landed right on the little girl's forehead.

"Suppress that, bitch," she snarled, and Hyne's face went red, livid with anger. She raised a hand, and pain wracked Quistis' body as darkness and the very strength of annihilation shot through her. Quistis loosed an inarticulate cry of pain as she felt her evry existence begin to be erased.

"I said you could die," Hyne growled. "Now, please be a dear and do it for me!"

Quistis tried grasping her rante, to call up magic, or to summon a Guardian Force, but the pain rapidly grew to indescribable levels. She could almost feel her very molecular structure begin to fall apart, and blood erupted from a hundred ruptures along her body, running out and staining her winter-white gear. Quistis shuddered uncontrollably as Hyne tore her apart with her raw power of pure destruction, face contorting in glee.

Then, Hyne's face contorted differently, and the pain vanished, as did Hyne, flying away at the end of a spinning kick that seemed to come out of nowhere and slammed directly into her delicate face.

Alucard had an annoying, yet endearing, tendency to do that kind of thing.

* * *

The white mists still flew and swirled about, completely blocking any method of visual targeting beyond a very short distance. For the Galbadian, SeeD, and Dollet defenders, this severely hampered their troops' ability to return fire on the enemy, though they quickly adapted, shifting to fire on the sources of energy lancing toward their positions. Even so, the mists erupting from the snows shrouded the battlefield, causing chaos and confusion as the Estharian invaders pressed in closer. 

A half dozen brilliant flashes erupted along the defensive line, and nearly two hundred men were instantly annihilated as the massive, mighty Overlord walkers poured fire into their ranks, their targeting systems unaffected by the mists, and their armor repelling the scattered return fire that came their way as they advanced over the plains.

Major Eric Malachi watched the advance, satisfied with the constant forward movement of his forces. The initial losses had been immediate and heavy, but once the walkers had joined in, the battle had immediately and overwhelmingly shifted to the Estharians' favor. The Overlord walkers, with their main artillery cannons and almost ridiculously thick armor, were devastating weapons, as long as they had close combat support.

Naturally, that was why Malachi had ordered an entire third of his division to act as their screen, while the second third of the division engaged the enemy defensive line to keep them busy while his walkers got into position. The last third of his division, Malachi remembered angrily, was dead back at the ridge where the SeeDs had made their stand.

The Major commanding the forces slowed his scout bike, as he was drifting too far ahead of the defensive force surrounding the Overlords. Malachi turned around and moved back to his troops and vehicles, cursing himself for feeling too eager to join the engagement.

"You waste our talents back here," muttered the Sorceress, and Malachi glanced back at her as he settled into position. Unlike the majority of the troops, she was not in a vehicle, but rather was simply using her magic to hover over the ground as her three hundred white robed guards surrounded her, none of them requiring a vehicle either.

_Idiot,_ Malachi though. _You're leaving yourself exposed. All they need is one lucky sniper, and in this chaos we probably would never see him fire._

"Relax," he stated, shaking his head. "This is just an opening skirmish. There will be plenty more engagements up ahead. You can flex all the muscle you want then."

Veronica opened her mouth to counter, but a buzzing in the Major's ear told Malachi that someone was trying to contact him. He pressed a finger to his ear and listened intently. His eyes widened as he heard the frantic voice of Lieutenant Gernas, head of one of the tank companies attacking the south end of the defensive line.

"_Major! We're under attack! They've launched an offensive! There's . . . Hyne, there's dozens of them! Begin retreat! Begin retreat! Fall ba-"_

The line cut off as a rapid assault of explosions could be seen through the chaotic mists along the south end of the line. Malachi barked out a barrage of orders, bringing part of his division around the field to face the threat. Wordlessly, Veronica also positioned herself and her minions to defend the Overlords as the walkers pulsed once more, blasting the defensive line.

"So, they came out of their hole," the Major muttered, smiling. "Good. It _is_ getting boring back here."

A tank backed out of the mist, firing its main cannon as fast as it could. As it was retreating, a beam lanced out from the mists and speared the vehicle. An instant later, the tank began to glow, and then exploded with a plume of white light. Beyond the mists, from the direction the beam had originated, a strange, somewhat muffled avalanche of sound could be heard. Malachi paused, not certain what he was hearing. He didn't place the noise until Veronica spoke up.

"Are those . . . jackhammers?"

Jackhammers, and dozens of them. That sound was usually associated with-

Twelve black armored, rapidly moving machines burst from the swirling mists, red forward sensors blazing, charging across the plain, each on four huge, spider-like legs as they advanced, pinchers held before them and ready fro battle. And behind them, erupting from the mists as well, came three dozen Dollet light assault vehicles, riding atop large, chain-bound wheels and with men manning heavy gattling cannons on the back.

Beyond the leading edge of the Galbadian X-ATM spider war machines, in the first of the numerous Dollet LRVs, Malachi could see the familiar figure of Zell Dincht, riding in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle.

"Bastard!" the Major shouted, and gunned the engine on his scout bike. His own elite commando unit, many of them minor Elementals like himself, moved up around him as he sent a single message to his forces defending the Overlords.

"_Charge!"_

* * *

Nash and Seifer stared at the demon as it rounded the corner. They looked into Diablos' red eyes, its slender shape, its great, vast wings, and the pool of darkness surrounding it, as if it controlled the very shadows themselves. It eyed them with contempt, but also a watchful wariness, as if it knew that they were not the same as the dead men at its feet. 

**You are human,** it stated, its voice resounding in the corridor, as it looked upon Seifer. **But you are not with these humans I have slain. I will not kill you . . . Yet. **

**And you,** Diablos stated, looking to Nash. **You are not human anymore. You are like this child, a fusion. You are not my enemy. Stand aside, and I will not harm you.**

"Can't do that," Nash responded. "We can't let you run free, and we're not going to let you abuse that child inside that body anymore."

**I am the Guardian of Shadow! You have no idea what that means, do you? You are both insects, even you, Elemental! Do not stand in the way of my vengeance, and I will not harm you.**

"Since when has the risk of bodily harm stopped me?" Seifer replied. He slid into his traditional guard, sword pointing at Diablos. "C'mon. Let's get this over with. You don't have to admit you're scared of us."

**For THAT, human, I will make your end prolonged.**

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Seifer replied with a gin, and he sent Nash a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

Nash's hand shot forward, and a bolt of flame lanced out at Diablos, who whirled and raised a hand, creating a wall of darkness that absorbed the flames. Seifer skittered around to the left, sliding up into Diablos' flank and stabbing it in the side with his saber. The Guardian howled, and Nash shot forward, flames wreathing his body as he slammed both his fists into the wall of darkness, the shadow collapsing as pure white fires rippled off the Elemental's hands.

Diablos floated backward, Seifer's blade cutting right in front of it, and sent a wave of dark energy out before it, the evil magic lifting Seifer up and tossing him a few feet back. Nash bulled through the darkness, the flames around his body burning brighter as he closed in. He launched a high spinning kick at Diablos, which the Guardian blocked with one hand while the other conjured up a bolt of shadow magic. Nash retracted his foot and ducked low, spinning to the side and out of the path of the energy bolt.

Seifer cut in, thrusting his saber into Diablos' chest, the blade digging in and inciting another howl of pain from the Guardian Force. It snapped an arm across and smacked Seifer across the face, launching him into the wall of the corridor, and whirled on Nash in time to catch a hard, flame wreathed punch to the face that sent the Guardian flipping end over end toward the other end of the corridor. Seifer and Nash quickly chased after the Guardian as it righted itself and drew upon its shadow magic, sending tentacles of darkness lancing down the hall at them.

Seifer ducked and rolled beneath one projection of darkness, and then spun aside, and then ran forward and leapt onto the wall, kicking off and evading a trio of additional attacks, while Nash simply bulled right through them, increasing the intensity of his flames and crossing his arms before him, creating a fiery shield. Shadow struck the shield and hissed, burned away by Nash's power. Diablos realized that its opponents were too agile or tough for that tactic and then shot forward, right into Seifer's path, and belted him across the face with a hard right hook that sent the SeeD sprawling to the ground.

Nash came in at Diablos' flank as it passed, and planted a flying kick to its side that sent the GF into the wall. The scientist rushed in, arms erupting with white-hot fires as he pummeled the Guardian with alternating blows with his hands and knees, pounding it into the wall. An intense inferno of flames surrounded the scientist as he assaulted the Guardian, and Nash suddenly stepped back, the fires suddenly pouring into his arm, which glowed a brilliant blue as he shot forward with a punch that shook the entirety of the labs and literally shattered the wall, launching Diablos into the room beyond.

Diablos had barely flown into the chamber when Seifer leapt over Nash and chased after it. The Guardian smashed into a lab table in what looked like another laboratory room, and quickly rose in time to take a thrust to the chest, and then a spinning backhand with the saber that cut into its face. Enraged, Diablos' arm lanced out, grabbing Seifer by t he neck and lifting him up. Seifer chopped down viciously with his saber, but Diablos caught the blade and twisted its wrist, tearing the sword from Seifer's hand.

Then, Nash burst into the chamber, flames blazing brilliantly as he rushed toward Diablos. A wall of shadow shot up before the scientist, which he broke through with the sheer intensity of his fire magic, but as he blasted past the barrier, he met Diablos' waiting right hook that sent him flying backward. The Guardian turned its head toward Seifer, and then chuckled.

**Now, human. Die. Die, and vanish forever!**

Dark magic shot through Seifer's body and he let out a strangled gasp of pain as he felt his very soul begin to burn.

* * *

-

* * *

Wow. This chapter took forever. I apologize for the relative shortness of the chapter, but the list of things i have palnned for this segment is long. So long that I'm suspecting that if I kept it up with this chapter I'd have over forty pages of stuff. That and I knew you people were tired of waiting for the next chapter, so, hey, here ya go. I'll truely, truly finish up this part of the story next chapter, and I promise that it will be suitably epic!

Now, for something that's disturbing me. I've recently received an e-mail from Chris Ganale, regarding something that the site admins are doing. It seems that they are punishing people for responding to reviews. Now, I'm not so sure about this, as they've never bothered me about it thus far, and I've been doing it for years now. There hasn't been a front page announcement regarding this supposed new rule, and since the email didn't mention who it was that was punished or what the nature of the volation was, I'm skeptical. It may simply be an extrapolation of the rule regarding the use of the review system as a message board, but again, I've been doing it for years and noone's bothered me about it.

Its my personal view that, if the admins of the site don't want us responding to reviews in the story, then they should implement a system allowing us to respond to our reviews. But again, that is only if they are serious about stopping this, which I doubt. Again, without any information on who was punished or what the nature of the violation was, I can't consider this to be that serious. If someone can tell me more about what's going on, I'd like to hear about it. Shoot me an email.

So, assuming that the admins don't really care (and if they want me stop, they just have to ask) here are the Shout-Outs!

**Chris Ganale:** The Overlords are more AT-AT than Scarab. I'll describe them in more detail next chapter when our heroes tackle them.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** Ain't I evil? Squall's blind now! Hahaha!

Am I being sarcastic? Or serious? You never know.

You'll see a lot more Selphie and Irvine action next chapter. Next chapter will be intense.

**JadeAlmasy:** A perfect match? More like a match made in hell. Just you guys wait...

**Xephon:** I'm not going to say whether Squall or any Elemental can get unattached to their GF. That would ruin key plot points! And also, remember that Illarra is bonkers. She doesn't use common sense.

**Johnny:** All you people can thank this guy for reminding me that Galbadia has Black Widows. :D

**Kolostramin Indincranin: **Why, yes. the GF can influence people they are fused with. That's what makes this so interesting!

Griever was destroyed in the future. In this timeline, Griever is still alive.

**Icedragon6171:** Well, yeah. Illarra is insane, after all. She does her own thing.

**TainShairi:** Oh, yes. Griver is evil. It makes sense, especially with the way I portrayed him in Gunblade.

**Wolf of Light:** Glad you hate her. I'm getting kind of eager to get to the point where she gets offed, but not because I don't like her, but what effect that will have on the story.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Nothing amusing? You lose.

**Spikestrife:** Yes, I keep disappointing you guys. XD This is what i get when I take on a story too big for my own good.

Squall? Regenerating eyes? Hmph. So cliched.

**Snowecat:** Considering I have no idea who Refugee is . . . yeah. I would take on his stories but my plate is kinda full now.

**Orestes666:** Hyne doesn't have anything against Squall. At least, not directly.

Well, Illarra is fused with Bahamut already, so...yeah.

**Leonhartilly:** Trust me, Squall will not get a day off until this fic is completely over. XD

**Katy:** Awesome duel? Well, just wait. The turely epic stuff will come in a few chapters...

**OniRazz:** Illarra's not so much a fool as she is completely insane. And for good reason.

Seifer, an Elemental? Don't go spoiling anything now...

**E:** Well, yeah, Bahamut isn't the most powerful in the game, but that's whyI give canon the bird when it doesn't suit my purposes.

Well, you have to remember, both Squalla nd Illarra have the Chimer genes. The combination of Chimera plus Elemental powers make both of them extremely powerful and dangerous. Since they both have the same genetic structure, they both are almost perfectly evenly matched.

Big Boss? Wow. I never considered that similarity. (I was actually aiming more for a bit of Baiken from GGXX...)

And yes, I made Hyne evil! I wanted to do something drastically different. This is drastically different.

That everyone? Spiffy. Hopefully next chapter will be faster!

Until next chapter.


	21. XX: Zanshin

_**Chapter 20: Zanshin**_

He expected darkness, through the blinding pain, and for an instant, he was not disappointed. There was nothing, only blackness, emptiness, through his eyes as his face burned, hot blood sliding down his features. He heard her laughter, her mocking voice as she saw what she had done to him. He could hear her crowing declaration of victory.

_**Blindness . . . Under normal circumstances it would damn you in this battle, but you are unique.**_

His sight was gone, and he expected death to come in an instant as his opponent moved to follow through with her attack. But yet, something was . . . _different._

_**Human eyes. Inferior constructs of an inferior biological, mortal specimen, developed for the limited intake of reflected colors of ones' surroundings, and thus allowing you to gain substantial data on the surroundings, including depth perception and changes in objects based on the color-absorbent properties of these objects' exterior layers.**_

The earth pulsed beneath him. Magic flowed around him, the very energies of existence suddenly perceptible. His normal senses, hearing, taste, touch, smell, they could still operate, and at the heightened state of his current being, they transmitted a wealth of information, but what he was experiencing was beyond any words he could use to describe it. He was no longer _looking_ at the world, but _understanding_ it, down to its very essence.

_**Color and vision lie. They do not tell the truth. What you need is a more primal sense, a core understanding of what makes up the very reality we all exist in. Humans cannot perceive this, because they are mere mortals, but for ones such as us, those who have gone a step above and beyond mortality, to become part of the very heartbeat of reality itself . . . We understand that reality many billions of times better than mortals can even begin to imagine.**_

He registered the motion, a shift in her muscles, her mind, and the crystallized energy of her weapon. The gunblade lanced forward, diving at his chest, but everything moved in slow motion as he registered the attack, perceiving every facet of the energy in her blade, every flicker of her life-force as she moved her body, the very air displaced by her moving body and the rippling currents resulting from that flying through the air past him . . . .

_**Reality, eventuality, cause and effect, probability . . . By registering these tiny, minute things, we can calculate them. Visual perception is weak. It has slowed you down. It has made you rely on those weak orbs when you never needed them. You have become one with me, and you now have this gift of seeing everything, of perceiving reality as it really is, and being able to harness all actions' effect on reality to respond with the incredible gifts you have been given.**_

Lionheart flashed up, catching Illarra's blade perfectly, and the woman stumbled back, shocked at his precise deflection. It was not the desperate, wild block of a blind man, but the calculated parry of a warrior who had seen the cut before it had even started.

**_To see reality is the gift you are given, Squall Leonhart. Curse me, hate me, loathe me . . . but do not deny that this perception will make you truly unparalleled in battle. You were blind, but by becoming blind to vision, you have become aware of _everything.**

Squall raised Lionheart into a guard, and firmed his jaw as blood dripped from his bearded chin, to fall on the icy stones. He could see her, staring at him, shocked and confused as a seemingly blind man strode forward, head and blade locked upon her as if he knew precisely where she was.

_What is this?_

_**This perception is what we Guardian Forces call "Zanshin."**_

_I see._

Squall stopped in front of Illarra as she recovered from her shock, moving into a balanced crouch and readying her blades.

"Come on," he told her quietly. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Irvine ducked back around the corner, reloading his rifle frantically as plasma fire stuttered past his position. All around him, Iceblood's revolting prisoner army fired down all angles of the four-way intersection as they pushed forward, gaining ground. As expected, the prison guards had set up defenses along the corridors leading to the entrance of the prison, though they had not been expecting such a sudden and violent assault. The prisoners had broken through the first enemy emplacements with ease, but as they had advanced, the guards had grown more numerous, stubborn, and well-entrenched, setting up portable force field generators that created impromptu cover for them. The escaping prisoners had found their attack bogged down as they neared the entrance. 

"Pour it on!" Irvine shouted, rolling around the corner of the intersection and firing a grenade round down the passage, bouncing it off the wall and around one of the emplacements down the corridor. The grenade flew between two of the force shields that the enemy soldiers had set up, past the shimmering defensive barriers, and exploded, blasting several of the guards apart. Surrounding the gunslinger, a force of around sixty prisoners continued trading fire with other enemy troops along the intersection, using plasma weapons that they had looted from their fallen opponents.

"These passages are a killing field," one of the men beside Irvine muttered, and the SeeD nodded. They had a large force, over four hundred troops, but most of the prisoners were armed with only melee weapons, and crude ones at that. In these corridors, those weapons were useless unless they could get close, and the guards had set up their defenses to make a charge with melee weapons suicidal. As it was, only a small number of prisoners had ranged weapons, and Irvine was leading them against the guards while Selphie led the rest of the prisoners as they scoured the secured areas of the prison, freeing the captives in Lockdown and locating whatever weapons they could.

Irvine wished Selphie was here with him now, but knew her mission was critical; the prisoners were angry and motivated to escape after decades of captivity, but they weren't armed for this kind of battle; they weren't SeeDs, or even normal soldiers. They needed guns to win this battle.

_Guns are what I'm best at, though._

Irvine popped around the corner again and snapped off another shot, blasting an enemy soldier's head off. He ducked back behind cover as the battle raged around him.

_Well, it could be worse. I could be Seifer right now._

* * *

Darkness swept through his body, ripping at Seifer's core, blasting into the heart of his very existence. The Governor clenched his teeth as Diablos pumped its dark magic through him, causing his muscles to spasm uncontrollably. Nearby, Nash was struggling to his feet, but at the moment, the evil Guardian Force and Seifer were left alone, Diablos' clawed hand wrapped around Seifer's throat. 

Seifer stared at Diablos' red eyes, and as he watched, he caught a momentary glimpse of something that suddenly made him forget the pain. As he stared into the pair of blazing embers, he saw something beyond them, something deeper down. The Governor knew what this creature really was; looking into its eyes, however, Seifer thought he could see deep down. Through those eyes, Seifer saw _her_.

_Two wings, one black and demonic, leathery and reaching out, and a second wing with white, downy feathers. And both wings stretching from a tiny, crying child's back as it lay, confused and uncertain._

The hell? His dream . . .was the child this girl? Serra?

Diablos, meanwhile, had been observing Seifer as well, and its dark chuckle resounded across the chamber.

**Do you feel your essence burning, human? Do you feel your utter and complete annihilation approaching? Do you feel my raw power?**

Seifer's tortured grimace suddenly shifted to a smile, and he raised his right arm, the sleeve of his jacket still rolled back, and pointed it at Diablos. The Guardian cocked an eyebrow, causing one of its red eyes to shift shape. Magic, even powerful spells, were not particularly effective on it; Diablos had a high resistance to spells, even holy magic.

Of course, Diablos knew nothing about Seifer, so it was quite confused when the synthetic skin of his cybernetic right arm parted, and a cylinder stretching from the beginning of Seifer's cybernetic arm to his wrist popped out, leveled directly at the Guardian's face.

There was a tremendous flash of light and a resounding explosion, and Diablos' head was rocked back as the cylinder fired. It dropped Seifer, who rolled across the floor, scooped up his saber and leapt at the stunned GF, stabbing the blade through its face.

"You feel your face getting shot off? You feel my .50 cal cannon shooting you at point blank in the head? Do you feel me _kicking your bitch ass?_"

There was a sudden roar of flames behind Seifer, and he leapt backward, tearing his saber free of Diablos' face as Nash rocketed past him, planting a devastating cross into the Guardian's midsection. Diablos doubled over, and a pillar of flame flashed into existence, launching the Guardian backward with the sheer energy of the blow. Seifer leapt over the explosion, chasing after Diablos, and driving his sword into the Guardian's stomach.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Seifer snarled, smacking his sword across the Guardian's face again. "What's the matter? Letting a couple of mortals beat the hell out of you?"

Diablos thundered in rage and shot forward, slashing across with a fist, which Seifer ducked and rolled beneath, laughing to himself as Nash flew past, fire rippling around his leg as he planted a powerful kick to Diablos' gut.

* * *

The two guards at the doorway were aware that the prison was being overrun by rioting prisoners, but they had stood firmly by their station, prepared to fight anyone that came down the hallway. They still stood resolutely when forty armed prisoners, led by a small, petite woman wielding a pair of nunchaku, appeared around the bend down the hall and charged. Both men raised their rifles, and then dropped them as their hands iced over. 

Both prison guards stared down at their hands in mixed horror and disbelief as Selphie's nunchaku slammed into their bodies, a rapid barrage of striking iron bars that sent both men to the floor in broken heaps.

"Huh," she murmured, looking at the door behind the two unconscious men, and then down to their bodies. "This room must be important if you guys were guarding it. Should have asked first, I guess." The door did not open as she approached it; doubtless it was locked and had some advanced security measures protecting it. Therefore, Selphie did the next best thing: she planted her hand against the door, willed the portal to ice over, and kicked it in. The metal, weakened by the instant freeze, was shattered, and Selphie and the prisoners with her moved into the room beyond.

"Jackpot!" she shouted.

The room was filled with shelves and stacks of boxes and crates. Upon those shelves and within those crates, all could clearly see, were rows and rows of plasma rifles, energy cannons, and other Estharian weaponry.

They had found the prison's armory.

"Strip it!" one of the other prisoners shouted, and several rushed down the hall to gather more troops as the rest grabbed all the weapons they could carry. Selphie moved to the back of the room, drawn to a line of larger than normal crates. She eyed them with interest as she saw they were filled with high-powered beam rifles and grenade launchers. The tiny SeeD paused after a second, however, when se saw a box behind them, even larger, with familiar Estharian script running across it, and her eyes widened as a gleeful smile cut across her features.

"Whoo-hoo," she whispered.

* * *

One salvo was all the Estharian tanks were able to unleash as the wall of charging, thundering spider war machines rushed across the snowy battlefield. Energy exploded across the front of the armored weapons, blasting the front end of one of the machines apart and staggering the rest, but the X-ATM units charged forward heedlessly, barely slowed. The Estharian tanks began to back up, when the war machines slammed headlong into the enemy front, armored pinchers shearing through reinforced Estharian armor and huge legs pounding through solid metal. The leading edge of the line of tanks was crushed underfoot, and the X-ATM units charged on. 

Behind them, rushing between the ruined hulks of the tanks, were three dozen Dollet LRVs, their chained tires propelling them across the half-molten snow. The chainguns on the back of each of the vehicles opened up, tens of thousands of rounds erupting from the advancing vehicles and blasting into lightly armored Estharian vehicles, the tremendous roar of blazing cannons drowning out all other sounds.

Each of the spider-like X-ATM units fanned out, driving the enemy back and opening a hole in the Estharian lines, allowing the Dollet vehicles to advance into the heart of the enemy formation. Tanks fired and bolts of plasma cut across the field, pounding the war machines, but the self-repairing mecha pounded through the attacks, crushing Estharian vehicles before them and firing bolts of energy that shredded armor. Absolute chaos gripped the field as the three dozen LRVs broke through relativelyunscathed and began a run straight for the walkers. A second line of vehicles, mostly Zako light combat transports and Estharian scout bikes, formed up to screen the Overlord walkers.

Zell and Rinoa, seated in the passenger seats of two of the Dollet vehicles, could see the Overlord walkers much more closely, and were surprised at the weapons' sheer size. They towered over the battlefield, over twenty feet tall, suspended on four spindly, insectile legs that came together at a rounded, oval metal body, atop which was mounted a huge cannon twice the size of any of the Estharian tanks. As they drove forward, the half-dozen Overlord walkers charged up their main cannons and fired another salvo at the distant defensive line.

"Let's get in there, take 'em out!" Zell shouted, and the LRVs accelerated toward the Estharian screen of vehicles. Plasma erupted from the enemy line, and the chainguns blazed. Bullets and energy cut back and forth across the field. Estharian armor crumpled and troops fell from their vehicles, ripped apart by bullets, and several of the Dollet vehicles seemed to wilt and fly apart, the front end of the transports glowing white and melting under the intense enemy fire. Bolts of magic lanced from several of the vehicles as SeeDs, and Rinoa, poured fire into the Estharian vehicles. Transports and scout bikes exploded, soldiers and SeeDs were hurled from their vehicles with savage burns and gaping bullet wounds, and the two lines slammed into each other. Chained tires crunched scout bikes underfoot, Zakos and LRVs smashed headlong into one and other and went flying and spinning across the battlefield, and both SeeDs and Estharian soldiers leapt from their vehicles onto each others' craft, boarding them and knocking men out of their seats or getting hurled off themselves.

Zell's vehicle flew past the blockade, and then passed over open ground, the Dollet gunner sheared in half by a plasma blast and the driver's left shoulder charred. He tried desperately to hang on as Zell reached across and grabbed the wheel. Plasma slashed past the vehicle, and Zell looked out to see a scout bike wheeling around to face them, and a familiar scarred man sitting behind the controls.

Malachi fired a barrage of plasma at Zell, the energy crashing into the LRV and blasting the driver to charred pieces as Zell leaned back, raising his arms to shield himself. More plasma struck the LRV, melting off armor, and Zell turned and hurled himself from the passenger's seat and onto the snow. He rolled up onto his feet as the scout bike rocketed around the LRV, angling toward the brawler, cannons blazing.

Zell hurled himself into the air, over the plasma, and directly at the scout bike. Malachi was surprised when Zell landed onto the front end of the bike, feet set against the armor plating, and sent a devastating right cross into the soldier's face, hitting with the force of a flying freight train and knocking him off the bike. Zell leapt off as Malachi bounced across the snow, and came up with a flip. The Estharian soldier spread his legs into a balanced stance as Zell charged in, and quickly drew his combat knife, slashing across at Zell as he neared. The brawler stopped his forward momentum instantly.

"Want a rematch, Dincht?" Malachi asked, chuckling, and Zell settled into a guard of his own.

"Why not?" the brawler asked. "Won't take long to paste a punk like you anyway."

* * *

Rinoa fared little better than Zell. In fact, her unit crashed headlong into a Zako, and the LRV went spinning wildly out of control over the snow, rolling several times and sending the gunner and driver spilling across the snow and almost making her throw up from the wild motions of the flying vehicle. The vehicle ended up upside down a short distance from the main battle as surviving LRVs and Estharian vehicles began to circle, firing wildly at one another. The Sorceress quickly dragged herself out of the wrecked LRV, her shoulder aching from an impact she didn't remember, and hauled herself up to her feet. 

That preternatural sense that told Rinoa when magic was near suddenly flared, and she whirled, instinctively raising a defensive shield as a series of streaking, blazing fireballs rained down around her. The magical barrier deflect the blows, and one of the fireballs slammed into the LRV and blew it apart, destroying the gasoline tank and causing it erupt in a plume of blazing inferno. Black smoke curled around Rinoa as she moved backward, her magical senses crying out that something powerful was approaching. It had to be the enemy'sSorceress.

Moments later, several white-clad, robed men moved through the smoke, brandishing melee weapons and eyeing Rinoa ferociously. One of them shouted something, and more of the men stalked forward, dozens of them appearing. After a moment, their advancing ranks parted, and a woman advanced, clad in greens and purples, and Rinoa narrowed her eyes.

"Rinoa Heartilly," the woman said quietly, her voice almost inaudible over the war raging around them. She bowed formally. "My name is Veronica Anderson."

"You're the Estharians' Sorceress," Rinoa stated, and the woman smiled, nodding.

"Indeed. Now, the required pleasantries are over. Please die." Veronica flicked a hand at Rinoa, and a wave of potent telekinetic power slammed into her, tossing Rinoa back across the snows. Rinoa righted herself in mid-air and sent a wave of crackling lightning back at Veronica, who deflected the bulk of the blast with her hands and a flex of her Sorceress power. However, several of her white-robed minions fell to the snow, twitching as electricity shot through their bodies. A second stream of lightning shot form Rinoa's hands at Veronica, again deflected and flying among her soldiers.

"Impressive," the other Sorceress commented. "I will admit, your powers are strong . . . But you focus entirely on brute force? You have no control, no finesse, no experience. Let me show you."

Icicles gathered around Veronica as she spoke, dozens of them, and then, with a flick of her hands, several of them swept toward Rinoa. She rapidly raised another shield, deflecting the first wave, as the others scattered, circling around Rinoa and coming at her from other directions. Rinoa continued to deflect the icicles with her magical power, but as she was doing so, Veronica channeled up another spell. Rinoa's eyes widened as she recognized the energy Veronica was preparing, and fire lanced from her finger tips, striking the icicles swirling around her and melting them.

Dispelling magic swept over Rinoa, breaking her shield, but the younger Sorceress had already used her fire magic to remove most of the remaining icicles, and she quickly summoned a wall of fire around her to destroy the remaining ones. Veronica watched the display, nodding to herself.

"Impressive," she whispered. "I underestimated your control and speed." She reached out, closing her fist tightly, and Rinoa was gripped in a vise-like telekinetic grip, and was yanked forward toward Veronica. At the same time, her other hand waved in the air, and a shard of stone shot up in Rinoa's path, set to impale the younger Sorceress.

* * *

"Shit . . . ." muttered Lex as he picked himself up off the snow. The LRV he had been riding in had caught a stray tank blast, and the rear half of the vehicle had vanished, the front flying off into the air. He didn't know where he'd fallen out, but now he was facedown in the snow and pulling himself up to his feet, face red from the intense blaze of energy that had wrecked his vehicle. The SeeD checked his waist, and found his katana was still there, sheathed in its scabbard. He cast a quick glance around the battlefield, and saw that he had gone pretty far, and was left relatively alone on the snowy fields, with nothing nearby except- 

_Wham!_

-for the giant spidery leg that slammed down into the ground fifty feet away, sending shudders through the snow and dirt. Lex almost lost his footing, but as he regained his balance, the SeeD looked up and saw one of the six Overlord walkers moving past. The cannon on its back began to charge up again.

_Crap! I have to stop that thing, but how?_

Lex stared at the walker again for a moment, and an idea hit him. It was crazy, insane, and by all rights it shouldn't work, but he had to try it. Clutching his katana tightly, the SeeD rushed across the plains toward the leg just ahead.

There was a sudden roar overhead as Lex ran, and he looked up in time to see two massive red warships swoop past, the barrels of their beam cannons glowing a bright gold light as they swooped in at another Overlord. The two airships, Ragnarok and Render, dove toward their target, and both beam cannons fired at the same time, light lancing down at the walker and striking it dead center. There was a tremendous flash of destructive illumination, and the Overlord in question exploded, rent apart by the two powerful Estharian airships. Ragnarok and Render swooped away, coming around for another pass as Lex neared his target. He stared up at the leg as he neared, and grinned.

"Here goes!" he shouted, and, with all his Guardian Force enhanced strength, he leapt up, halfway up the leg. As the SeeD reached the apex of his jump, he focused everything he had into his arm, and his katana flicked out, before returning to its sheath.

Lex hit the snow an instant later, rolling forward, and whirled around to see the effects of his attack. The Overlord stopped in place, the cannon still charging, and a moment later, the leg Lex had cut fell off at the middle, slamming into the snow. Still, the walker stood, supported by its other three legs, and the iaijutsu SeeD spun on the leg behind that one, nodding.

Overhead, the Ragnarok and Render came around, cannons charging for a second pass, and the five remaining overlords turned their attentions skyward. The cannons elevated as the two ships settled into a strafing run, and fired before the pair of aircraft could maneuver. Four of the huge energy blasts missed, but the fifth slashed in at the Render.

Lex looked up, eyes wide as he came to a stop, and saw the slagged remains of Render's rear port engines, as well as most of the rest of the port side, fly across the battlefield, the remainder of the ship rocketing forward on sheer momentum and the starboard engines. It flew wildly out of control toward the ground as the Ragnarok pulled up.

Then Render suddenly shifted in flight, the engines cutting out, and managed to change direction slightly. Lex's heart jumped as he saw the wounded, destroyed ship angle in at one of the Overlords. The walker charged up its cannon again and took a step backward before the airship slammed into it and exploded, shearing off the cannon and launching the walker several hundred feet backwards, its hull bursting into flame as it smashed into the snow. Two seconds later, the Overlord's power systems failed, and it detonated in a blue-white fireball.

"Bastards!" Lex shouted, looking up at the immobilized Overlord he was fighting. He ran toward the rear leg and hurled himself into the air, grasping his katana once again and focusing his spirit into a single flicker of his weapon as he passed. The SeeD hit the ground as the leg fell away, and with it came the Overlord, the massive war machine teetering over and plummeting toward the ground. It slammed into the snow just after Lex did, hurling snow across the battlefield and sending tremendous tremors across the field.

_Three down, three to go._

* * *

Hyne smacked headfirst into a boulder and flopped to the snow. She pushed herself up out of the white powder, face red with anger as Alucard moved to Quistis' side, where she lay in the snow. He looked over her and shook his head as she saw the hundreds of ruptures in her skin, blood running all across her body. Quistis stared back up at the Guardian, crimson fluid running down her forehead and beginning to block her eyesight. 

"You meddlesome bastard!" Hyne snarled, her playful tone now vanished. "I should rip your essence apart and blast it into the void for that idiotic insolence!"

"You can try, Hyne," Alucard whispered in response as he continued examining Quistis. He looked into her eyes and then ran a hand over her forehead, wiping some of the escaping blood away.

"This is too severe for a curative spell," he muttered to her.

"Am," she croaked, the motion of her mouth and the air coming up from her lungs suddenly painful. "Am I . . . Dying?" Blood began to come up from her mouth. Behind Alucard, Hyne rose up into the air, hovering above the battlefield as Hades stalked toward the pair, scythe ready.

"Worse," he whispered. "Hyne destroyed nearly a third of your body with that attack. I'm amazed you're still alive . . . But you won't last long now." Alucard glanced back at Hyne and Hades, and shook his head at them.

"We'll have to finish this some other time," he called, and Hades froze.

"Oh, no you don't!" he shouted, and started running across the snowfield. However, before he could get close, Alucard, and Quistis, had vanished into nothing. The Guardian of Death stopped, and snarled. He whirled around at a boulder and chopped his scythe through it, slicing the rock in half.

"Coward!" he shouted. "Get back here and face me, you worthless Guardian!"

"Relax," Hyne said, her anger fading away, and she laughed. The little girl glanced at the blood that had pooled in the snow. "Alucard only ran because I used negative energy on Quistis. That fool still cares too much for mere mortals."

"We just going to let him run off?" Hades demanded as his face reverted to its normal, youthful appearance. He settled his scythe over his shoulders again, his human expression clouded with anger and fury.

"We have no choice," Hyne replied. "Alucard has always been able to go wherever he needs. Besides, he and his little girl don't really matter anymore. Not with the Prototype . . . ."

* * *

The prisoners had managed to break free of the corridor traps, and had moved up into the segments of the prison where the guards lived, the only part of the complex that needed to be aesthetically pleasing. The room they were in now was an atrium connecting several wings of guard quarters, and beyond, the prison control room. The Iceblood Prison guards had been steadily falling back, mostly due to Irvine's skilled use of firepower, but had set this room up as a deathtrap for the sharpshooter and his team. Portable energy shields had been set up all across the atrium, and over a hundred enemy soldiers had set up behind pillars, benches, and shields, weapons leveled on the entrance the prisoners would be using. 

What they had been expecting was for Irvine to charge out, leading his team in a violent assault, which would be stopped by waves of unyielding, remorseless plasma fire. The guards waited intently for the enemy to charge, and die, at the ends of their weapons in this last stand of a trap.

The doors into the prisoner-occupied areas of the prison slid open, and everyone tightened their fingers around their trigger. However, a single man emerged from the entrance, hands raised, head bowed. The guards recognized Irvine Kinneas from his coat and hat. His hands were high, holding no weapons.

After several moments, during which time Irvine advanced into the center of the atrium, surrounded by the watchful eyes of a hundred men, a group of four soldiers broke off from their positions at an officer's order. They closed in at Irvine from four different angles, weapons leveled at him.

"Freeze!" one man shouted, and Irvine stopped in his tracks. He looked up, staring at the soldier who had spoken as he and his three comrades surrounded the sharpshooter.

"Get down on your knees!" the speaker ordered. "Now!"

Irvine slowly nodded, and dropped down to one knee. However, he stopped there, and a slight, almost imperceptible smile cut across his features.

Then Irvine was flying, hurling himself to the side as he pumped his arms. Two AB-10 machine pistols, concealed within holsters inside his sleeves, flew up into his waiting hands as he whirled and sprayed fire on the four men who were even then tracking him to fire. The AB-10s erupted, bullets exploding from them and cutting down the quartet of soldiers with a storm of hot steel.

Half the pistols' magazines were spent as he came behind one of the energy shields, whirling even as he rolled, to face the soldier behind it. Both pistols jabbed into the man's stomach as Irvine pulled the triggers, pumping a slew of rounds into him. As the man fell away, blood flying from his shredded gut, Irvine whirled and fired behind him at another enemy soldier. A third rounded a shield and rushed at Irvine as the pistols ran out of ammunition, his axe held high.

The machine pistols clattered to the floor as Irvine whirled around into a high kick, smashing his boot into the head of the Estharian guard right in front of him. The soldier fell back a couple of steps, but was unharmed for the most part. However, Irvine had used the moment the kick had ought him to draw a Beretta, and jabbed it in the man's face. Three shots later, the MP fell to the ground, quite dead, as Irvine dove behind another of the dozens of portable energy shields. Plasma fire finally stuttered after the gunslinger as he slid his pistol back into its holster and drew his Calico sub-machineguns. Waves of blazing energy cut after him, pounding the shield and rapidly causing it to brighten. Irvine dove behind another shield, firing as he did so, rivers of plasma chasing him as a hundred Estharian soldiers tracked the sharpshooter. Ducking, weaving, and firing, Irvine moved between several shields and got behind a pillar, leaving several dead men behind him. The enemy closed in, rapidly moving to flank the pillar while remaining behind cover, squads fanning out to cut him off.

_Pinned down, they have fire superiority. Have to change that, and I know just how . . . ._

Irvine tossed one of the Calicos into the air, and then grabbed his hat. He whirled and launched the hat out from behind his pillar. A couple of startled soldiers fired, their shots cleanly missing the flying headgear, which drifted through the air.

At Irvine's signal, the sixty prisoners with ranged weapons rushed out the hallway silently. To draw attention away from them, Irvine spun out from behind cover, catching his tossed Calico, and sprayed a group of moving soldiers, cutting down two of the enemy. The response was immediate and predictable; the enemy returned fire, plasma cutting in at Irvine as he took cover, slamming into the pillar and melting the stone and metal that made up the column. The sharpshooter counted to three as the storm of flame flew in, and ducked low, spinning around the other side of the pillar and popping another opponent with a five-round burst to his faceplate as he leaned out. Irvine ducked back, and by that time, most of the prisoners were in cover and opened fire on the distracted guards. A dozen of the enemy fell in a couple of seconds, before the Estharians moved to regroup and face the new threat. Irvine peeked out, popped another enemy trooper, and saw, to his surprise, that more prisoners were coming out of the hallway, allw wielding Estharian weapons. The standing prisoners in the room kept up the pressure, their guns and plasma weapons forcing the majority of the enemy guards to stay behind cover while the rest moved out wide, flanking around the rest of the guards. Irvine nodded his approval of the tactic and joined in, stepping out from behind his half-molten cover and spraying bullets at the guards. The Calicos ran dry, and he holstered the machineguns and snatched out his revolvers. Before the Estharians could respond, Irvine dove behind another pillar, circling around to the side and firing as he moved. Each blast from his revolvers threw another enemy soldier to the ground.

On the opposite side of the room, the prisoners did the same, flanking the guards and pushing them back to the doors leading into the control room. The guards began to center around that door, hiding behind shields, columns, and anything else they could.

Irvine's eardrums exploded, and even as he was registering the sound, the core of the remaining guards was blasted apart, thirty men obliterated by a tremendous explosion. Less than a dozen men were still alive, many hit by shrapnel, and began to retreat immediately into the control room. His ears ringing, Irvine looked back toward the entrance to the chamber, and saw, to no real surprise, Selphie, hefting a long, massive rifle, looking more like a miniaturized artillery cannon fused with a sniper rifle. The last time she'd used a weapon like that, it had been during the Galbadian invasion of Esthar . . . .

Selphie's mouth moved as she pumped her fist in the air, and Irvine knew she was shouting an enthusiastic "Whoo-hoo!"

_And nothing is sexier than a woman with a big gun._

* * *

A knife cut past Zell, who stepped in behind the cut and launched a quick kick that brushed Malachi's shoulder, knocking the soldier a step back. 

"Come on, can't you do any better?" Zell asked, grinning. "You were kicking my ass last time!"

A knife cut in at Zell's gut, and he had to spin away from the blade and drop down low to avoid another cut from Malachi. the knife sliced through the air, tracing a pattern as Zell worked frantically to evade the deadly precision of the Estharian officer.

"Stuff it," Malachi hissed. "You're still an idiot for taking me on without a weapon." His knife slashed across in an overhand cut, then deftly flipped over into an underhand stab at Zell's heart.

"No weapon?" Zell replied, hopping back. "Huh. Squall heard a guy once say that the body was the best-" Zell stepped in underneath a quick cut and planted a knee to Malachi's gut. "-the most dangerous weapon of all!" The Estharian soldier was lifted up and launched back several feet by the impact, to crash into the snow.

"Not quite," Malachi replied, chuckling as he recovered from the hit, standing up. "Trust me, the Elemental project makes you SeeDs look like nothing."

"Elemental?" Zell echoed. "The hell?" Malachi shot forward, blurring across the distance between them with his inhuman speed, launching into a high kick that thudded against Zell's forearm, the brawler instinctively blocking. Zell countered with a low sweep, which Malachi barely saw in time to flip over, coming out of the evasive maneuver with an arcing stab. The brawler managed to stop the blade by reaching up just in time to catch Malachi's wrist.

Malachi's other fist shot over his caught arm and slammed Zell in the face, knocking him backward, dizzying him for a second, but not enough to leave the Estharian any openings.

"Like I said, it makes you nothing," Malachi stated. "We're going to replace you, all of you. After this battle, there won't be anything left to stand in our way!" Malachi advanced, cutting ahead again with his blade.

"Ha!" Zell replied, dropping back. "All we've got to do is keep you guys back until Trabia Garden lifts off!" He reversed his momentum, leaping forward into a flying kick. Malachi ducked and whirled, spinning beneath the kick and stabbing up, his blade grazing Zell's back. The brawler hissed in pain, and then went stumbling face forward into the snow as Malachi planted a vicious kick to Zell's side.

"Heh . . . who's the real fool?" Malachi responded, staring down at Zell. "It doesn't matter if Trabia lifts or not. We've got two Flying Fortresses, with ten thousand men each waiting to the south; If Trabia lifts, they'll fly right into their teeth." He stepped forward, left foot arcing up into a skull-crushing axe kick.

"Flying whats?" Zell coughed as he rolled away from the axe kick and leapt to his feet. Malachi's boot slammed into the snow, launching a plume of powder into the air.

"You remember, don't you?" Malachi asked. "The ships in my base? Our newest weapons?" Malachi ended his question with another blurring charge, chopping viciously with his blade. The knife cut the air before Zell as he dodged and weaved, bobbing his head and making it very hard for Malachi to score even a glancing hit.

"Those cheap Garden knock-offs?" Zell snarled as he suddenly stopped dodging, stepping ahead and catching Malachi's arm with one of his own, pinning it to his side too close for the Estharian to angle his knife in.

"Can hold ten thousand men," Malachi stated, chuckling. His head shot forward, slamming into Zell's. "Your bunch of bloodied and beaten men can't stand up to twenty thousand of our best! And after Trabia falls, next is Dollet." Zell fell back from the staggering blow.

"Dollet?" Zell grunted as he recovered, but then was launched back by Malachi's flying shoulder block. He slammed into the hood of the Dollet LRV, his skin screaming as it hit the still-hot metal.

"Even as we speak, the other six Fortresses, along with half of Esthar's navy have already captured Balamb Island," Malachi stated off-handedly as he stalked forward, twirling his knife. "It's a staging ground for the invasion of Dollet. Over a hundred thousand of Esthar's best, and an entire battalion of Elementals, just like me, are going to hit Dollet. Nothing you Garden punks, or Galbadia, or Dollet can drum up will be able to stop it."

"You think the combined armies of Dollet and Galbadia can't stop a mere hundred thousand?" Zell replied, standing up. He closed his fingers around the metal of the LRV, ignoring the pain from the heat.

"What?" Malachi asked. "Thinking you can run, Dincht? Tell everyone our plan? Not today. Galbadia and Dollet won't know what hit them. Now, die!" Malachi shot forward, and Zell spun. He grabbed the bumper of the LRV, and whirled, muscles straining.

Major Eric Malachi realized, with a sudden, startling moment of clarity, that backing Zell up against the Dollet vehicle was a very big mistake; instead of trapping Zell, he had actually given him a new weapon.

This understanding came right as the still-hot metal of the LRV slammed into Malachi's face, and the vehicle, swung by its front bumper by Zell like a baseball bat, launched the Estharian Major into the air. Malachi went hurtling end over end across the battlefield as the LRV dropped to the snow. Zell panted for a moment, shaking his head, and then raised a two-fingered salute at the departing Major.

"Suck on that shit, jackass! Frickin' home run! _Booya!"_

* * *

Rinoa flew forward, unable to stop Veronica's powerful telekinesis, so she did the next best thing. Rinoa focused her magic onto herself, and enabled a potent defense an instant before she slammed into the stone spike. Veronica watched, amazed, as Rinoa bounced off the stone skewer, and rolled around it, breaking free of her telekinesis and launching a violent blast of fire. 

Rinoa had, for a split-second, turned her body into living metal with a flex of her transmutation magic, and had deflected right off the spike.

Veronica snarled as Rinoa's body reverted to flesh and blood, and the Estharian Sorceress had to catch and dissipate the fire spell with a burst of ice. Even as she was doing so, Rinoa shot her arms out wide, and lightning shot from them, slamming into the White Robes surrounding her and blasting dozens of them away. She brought both hands together before her and sent Veronica hurtling backward with a stream of hurricane-force winds. Snow, bodies, ruined vehicle hulks, and a single very angry Sorceress went flying away, but, catching a flying icicle spear that almost gutted her, and snarled as Rinoa channeled up even more power.

_My only advantage here is sheer power!_ Rinoa steeled herself as fireballs formed around her. _She has a lot more control, but my power is far greater than hers. Its like Squall told me . . . I have most of the power Edea wielded, and all of Adel and Ultimecia's. If I just keep pounding her-_

Rinoa circled her hands before her, creating a wide ring of ice that caught the series of fireballs Veronica launcher her way, and with a gesture, Rinoa sent her own bolts of flame raining at the other Sorceress. Precision blasts of ice snuffed out the fireballs, but that was only a distraction as Rinoa reached into herself. She touched her Guardian Forces and nodded quietly as she utilized their power, and her own Sorceress powers in conjunction.

_And, being trained by SeeD, I have one thing you don't, Veronica . . . . _

"What are you doing?" Veronica demanded as she sensed the strange use of magic within Rinoa, and the younger Sorceress smiled to herself.

"His name is Leviathan," Rinoa explained as a great serpent erupted fromt he air above her. The huge, snake-like water Guardian Force hissed a terrible, unearthly cry, and water rippled forward, shooting across the Trabian plains at Veronica. The Sorceress' eyes widened as the magical water neared, Leviathan's power keeping it from freezing over. Veronica flexed her powers and launched intense waves of ice down at the water as it washed away her minions, and the magically summoned fluid began to freeze over. Rinoa, too, sent waves of cold magic into the water, freezing it as well, and Veronica realized an instant later that Rinoa had _wanted_ her to freeze the waves over.

"What are you-" Veronica demanded, and then Rinoa pointed at the ice. A wave of energy shot through it, shaking the ice, and suddenly the bed of frozen water _exploded_, like a gigantic icy hand grenade. Veronica instantly raised a potent defensive shield, blocking the brunt of the storm of exploding ice as the shards tore into the remnants of her army, wiping them out. Leviathan's protective shield defended Rinoa against the blast, and even as Veronica was gritting her teeth against the barrage, Rinoa made another gesture and disappeared in a puff of wispy white air.

Veronica did not fail to see this, but she was still focusing on her shield below her when Rinoa vanished. She turned her head, frantically seeking where her opponent had gone, when a hand grabbed her shoulder. Veronica whirled around, preparing a spell as she dropped her shield, in time to see Rinoa right behind her. Fire blazed in Veronica's hand, but then she saw Rinoa's right arm.

That arm iced over, surrounded by cold magic that formed a solid, frozen blade around her hand. Rinoa stared remorselessly into Veronica's eyes as that blade, and the arm behind it, shot forward, stabbing through Veronica's face and into her brain.

* * *

"Half the enemy walkers are down!" shouted one of the Galbadian officers over the report of gunfire. 

"That still leaves three left," snarled General Randolph as he slammed a new magazine into his weapon. Plasma scorched overhead through the mists as he pulled the charging handle back on his rifle. the powerful report of his weapon sounded an instant later as he pumped round after round into the charging Estharian infantry. The tanks and vehicles were having trouble in the mists, and the troop carriers had taken advantage of the chaos to drop their infantry off nearer to the battle. Dozens of Estharian soldiers were attacking the defensive trench, some even breaking through the badly ravaged lines and fighting hand-to-hand with Galbadian, Dollet, and SeeD troops.

"We can't hold under that kind of firepower," Randolph snarled as he gunned down another enemy soldier.

"We have to retreat!" the officer said, and Randolph looked at him incredulously.

"Retreat?" he asked. "Hell, we just got here!"

"Scout bikes!" came a shout.

"But sir!" the officer protested as plasma flew past, killing another Galbadian. "We'll get slaughtered if we stay here!" And explosion sounded beyond as the firing bike blew apart.

"What the hell are you saying?" Randolph demanded, reloading his rifle again. He reached out as he finished and grabbed the officer. "We're Rangers! We're SeeDs! We're the Dollet 125th! Hardcore badasses, the best that our countries can drum up! And you're telling me we're going to run from some cheap-ass sci-fi movie knock offs and guys in stupid white uniforms?" Randolph pressed a finger to his ear.

"Listen up!" he shouted over all the radios across the defensive trench. "This is General Randolph! I know you guys are getting pounded, but I know you bastards are giving 'em ten times as much right back!" He fired his rifle one-handed as she shouted over the radio.

"These cheap Estharian fucks are hiding behind their damn walkers!" he snarled. "Let 'em stay back there, for all we care! We've got some of our best pounding them as we speak! You guys have to hold the line! Trabia Garden needs us to keep it safe! Those children and civilians will have no one to protect them if we die here! So kill! Kill the bastards! Kill them all! Butcher them, crush them, stab them, choke those fuckers to death with their own intestines and beat them down with their own fucking severed limbs! We're going to _fucking_ hold this line! You understand!"

Randolph's ears popped as over a thousand surviving soldiers responded with an enthusiastic and simultaneous **_"HELL YES SIR!"_**

Randolph snorted as he heard the firing from his side of the trench increase tenfold. He reloaded his rifle, which had gone dry in the middle of the speech. The charging lever was pulled back again as he glanced at the doubting officer, who was no longer hesitating. He clutched his rifle intently, nodding.

"The fuck are you doing?" Randolph snarled. "Shoot you some bastards!" Randolph whirled and fired a burst into another Estharian's face as he stepped out of the mists, firing wildly. "Hah! If you didn't want your ass kicked, you shouldn't have stuck it out so far!"

A scout bike flew through the mists, firing as it came, and seventeen separate rifles and two shotguns blasted it at once, shattering the front end of the bike and sending the man inside flying forward. He rolled into the trench and shot up, apparently unharmed. Randolph and several others whirled, firing, but the man made an impossible leap into the air, landing amidst three Dollet soldiers. His axe flew around wildly, slicing down all three men in a couple of seconds. Another Dollet trooper stabbed at the man's back with a bayonet, but the Estharian came around with a sudden chop that shattered the man's head.

"Fuck!" Randolph shouted, pointing his rifle at the man. "That's SeeD-level speed!" The Estharian turned toward Randolph and rushed at him. Randolph fired a couple of shots, which missed as the Estharian ducked and weaved around the bullets, and the General switched his approach, grabbing his rifle in both hands like a staff. He matched the Estharian trooper's movements as he came in with a blurringly fast chop of his shotaxe. Randolph knew not to test the target's strength, and rolled aside, around the man's left, and smashed his faceplate with the butt of his rifle. The faceplate buckled, and the man leapt back, tearing off his helmet, revealing his face.

Randolph rushed forward again, thrusting with his bayonet, but the Estharian shot his axe up to block. However, the bayonet thrust was a feint, as Randolph's left hand dropped to his side and drew a grenade. Not a normal fragmentation grenade, but a flashbang. Even as the axe was rising to guard against the thrust, Randolph shot up his leg, his boot plowing into the soldier's testicles. The man grunted, doubling over slightly, for despite the armor, the blow had still hurt. However, the real point behind the kick had been to make the man's mouth open slightly.

Randolph's hand jabbed forward, thrusting the flashbang into the Estharian's mouth, and he pulled his hand away, taking the pin with it. The Estharian's eyes bugged open wide as he realized his predicament, but Randolph smacked the butt of his rifle into the man's face and hurled him backward for the seconds the flashbang needed.

The stun grenade went off, and the explosive flash, while not lethal when exploded in the open, was absolutely deadly in a tiny enclosed space, like the Estharian freak's head. The soldier's skull exploded.

Randolph didn't even watch, instead whirling back to the battle, as if the freaky Estharian had never even existed.

* * *

Veronica's body vanished in a cloud of purple-pink light, and energy flowed into Rinoa's body. She stood silently as she felt the magic pump into her, the Sorceress power strengthening her body and magic as it poured across her soul. 

She opened her eyes as the energy faded, and looked at where Veronica had died. There was no remorse, no pity in her eyes. Veronica had been an enemy for her, albeit a deadly and ruthless one. It wasn't in her character to spout witty one-liners like Irvine or Seifer would have. Instead, she looked away from the ruined battlefield and the dead bodies of Veronica's freakish minions, and toward the walkers beyond. She stared at the Overlords, and considered how to stop them. She had been peripherally aware of the Ragnarok's assault, and saw another Overlord down nearby, legs sliced off. One of the Seeds had done that, was it the one Zell had been fighting alongside yesterday?

Rinoa shook her head. Couldn't get distracted. She stared at the walkers, and checked her powers. She felt a distinct connection with all the energies around her, but a new, stronger connection with her powers to manipulate objects. Had she gained Veronica's control over telekinesis?

She glared at one of the walkers. Only one way to find out.

Rinoa extended her hand at the walker ahead of her, and closed her fist tightly, focusing on the space around the walker. With her power, she called on the space to contract upon itself, to come together. She closed her fist even more tightly, channeling the magic, and then, as if it were a soda can Zell was about to toss away, the walker crumpled inward into itself. The power generator for the cannon collapsed as well, and the entire vehicle detonated in a flashing blue-white fireball.

The Sorceress immediately turned to the other two walkers, focusing on them. She saw the energy buildup in their generators as clearly as she would see a glowing light bulb, and knew they were about to fire again. Every time they fired, more good men on that defensive line died. She couldn't let that happen again!

Rinoa, without any real attempt to focus her powers, reached out with her arms, spreading them wide as she faced the other two walkers as they advanced, side by side. Then, she slapped both hands together. With a sudden _whoosh_ of displaced air, the two Overlords flew at one another and slammed together hard enough to crumple their armor plating. Rinoa tightly clenched her hands, focusing her powers, and pressed their heavy armor together, crunching the metal and compressing both walkers. One Overlord gave before the other, its generator failing and detonating. The fireball consumed the second Overlord, annihilating both vehicles. The shockwave from the detonation rolled across the field, lifting up snow and casting it all about as chunks of molten metal hit the dirt and ice surrounding her.

"Mission complete," she muttered grimly.

* * *

Diablos was reeling as Seifer and Nash alternated, the Governor diving in with quick cuts that drew the Guardian's ire, and Nash then rushing in with heavy blows of pyrotechnical power. The fiery magic was what was really winning the battle, for even Diablos, with its resistance to magic, was not capable of deflecting the intense flames of Ifrit's Elemental. 

Nash rushed forward with another arcing kick trailing flames that met Diablos' head, sending the Guardian spinning around. Seifer leapt past the scientist, landing on Diablos' shoulders, saber raised high.

"Fortified with iron, asshole!" Seifer snarled as he stabbed the blade into Diablos' mouth. The Guardian Force roared a cry that shouldn't have been possible and managed to reach up, swatting Seifer aside as Nash uppercutted the GF in the gut. A column of flame erupted around the pair, blasting Diablos away. Seifer landed atop a lab table, shaking his head as he hit, breaking through the metal and plastic of the furniture.

"Ow, damn it," he growled, standing, his face going red with anger. "You need to learn to eat a healthy diet!" Seifer clenched his fist as Nash prepared to strike again. "Hold it!"

Nash paused and looked back, in time to see yellow light flow around Seifer's body. The scientist's eyes went wide, and he ducked to the side as Diablos rose up, furious but badly wounded.

"Hey! Diablos!" Seifer called as the yellow light focused around his arm. The Guardian Force stared at Seifer as the Governor grinned. A fireball formed in his palm, and shot out at the Guardian. It slammed into the GF's chest, knocking it back hard against the wall, causing it to crack. The GF shook its head and started to stand as Seifer slashed the air twice with his gunblade. A pair of glowing white lines slashed over the floor, forming a cross that intersected on Diablos' position. In the darkness of the lab, they shone poignantly.

Seifer stared at the guardian for a second as the white light intensified, and then raised a hand. With a smirk, the governor snapped his fingers, and a tremendous detonation of fiery energy erupted from the cross traced on the ground, rising up and consuming Diablos in a torrent of flame and light.

The glare of the detonation fades several moments later, shrouding the room in darkness, but was quickly dispelled when Nash lit up the room with a small flame. He moved across the chamber, as did Seifer, to the spot where Diablos had stood. The demonic Guardian was gone, and in the light of Nash's handheld flame, only a small, black-haired girl lay, clothes missing and crumpled in a fetal position, arms wrapped around her body.

"Is she . . . ." Seifer asked, staring at her face, surprised by the young woman's beauty. His eyes widened as he recognized part of her face.

_No way . . . ._

"She's fine," Nash whispered, nodding. "Serra will regain consciousness soon. We have to get her out of here, now, though."

Seifer nodded and quickly took off his dirty, tattered jacket. He wrapped it around Serra's body like a blanket, and hoisted her in his arms, still looking at her face.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Seifer whispered.

* * *

Impossible. By all rights, he should have been dead, but somehow, despite all of her efforts, despite every feint and stroke and the fact that she had cut out both of his damn eyes, Squall was still standing and still fighting. Blood streamed down the side of his face from his slashed eye, his body was bruised and bleeding from a half-dozen other wounds, and yet he was standing tall, as if unfazed by the injuries he had suffered. 

In contrast, Illarra was panting with exhaustion, her face red with anger as she stared at Squall, hatred blazing in her eyes at his emotionless visage, the scarred, bleeding points where his eyes should have been staring at her. She gritted her teeth and snarled viciously at Squall, raising her blades.

The woman dove in, gunblade and knife chopping in viciously in a rapid fire, alternating routine, assaulting Squall at opposite angles. Lionheart swept up, deflecting the attacks with quick, straight parries, flashing crystal meeting flashing crystal, Squall's arms moving almost lazily as he deflected every cut, chop, and stab. A dozen blows later, Illarra fell back, snarling viciously as she circled Squall, who turned to match her, eyeless gaze peering into the woman. Even as he watched, a slight, almost haunted shudder went down her spine.

"What the hell are you?" she whispered.

"I'm Squall Leonhart," he answered quietly. "Nothing more."

She shot ahead again, slashing viciously, her blade met instantly by Squall's gunblade. His left arm shot across, slamming Illarra in the face and throwing her backward, even as the two weapons collided. She flipped up onto her feet and thrust aggressively at Squall's throat, but Lionheart turned the stab aside with casual ease.

"How are you-" she hissed, and spun around into a high kick. The ankle of her boot was caught instantly by Squall's left hand. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped her over, sending Illarra crashing headfirst into the stone. She rolled away, cursing him violently as he stalked forward. She rose up to her feet and stabbed her weapon at Squall once more, but Lionheart shot up, catching the blade and parrying it out wide. In the opening Squall advanced like lightning, his right leg rising into a knee that slammed into Illarra's gut. She let out a lungful of blasted air as she doubled over. Squall whirled around into a circle kick that crashed into her temple, and the woman was sent spinning to the stone.

"You and Griever took my eyes," he whispered, with no anger, sadness, or malice in his voice. "I'm completely not sure what this is I'm experiencing now, this "zanshin" as he calls it . . . ."

Illarra rose up to her feet shakily, but before she could raise her weapons, Squall rushed forward, turning to his left and slamming his shoulder into her chest. Illarra was sent flying backward across the courtyard, and crashed heavily into the stone wall, shattering part of it from the sheer force of her impact and launching loose stones around the battlefield. She dropped to the stone floor, head swimming as aches and pains shot throughout her back and upper body.

After a few moments of laying there, a figure blotted out the sun overhead, and she looked up, to see Squall's silhouette towering over her, Lionheart at his side. As she watched, the man shook his head, long hair waving in the frigid Trabian cold. Illarra managed to move her mouth, not understanding why he was just standing there.

"Finish . . . it," she whispered, and Squall shook his head again.

"Illarra, you've done some horrible things in your life," he stated quietly. "But now that I know why, I know I can't hate you. Your life is a sad thing. You never hated me . . . It was your father, and humanity itself that you hated. You hated the nature of humanity, the forces that drive us to kill and destroy and hurt one another."

As she watched, Squall slowly returned his gunblade to his sheath, and turned around.

"I'm not your enemy, Illarra, humanity is," he said quietly. "I can't feel anger or hatred or enmity for you. All I can feel for you . . . is pity."

And with no further words, Squall Leonhart left her laying there, blood still dripping from his face as he walked away.

* * *

-

* * *

Oy. That one took some time to finish. Sorry about the delay, I got hit with writer's block partway through, and I was very busy for the last couple of weeks. But anyway. 

Several refences throughout this chapter. Spot them if you will. :P

Next chapter, we tie up loose ends regarding the Trabia battle, and prepare for what could be a, yes, even _larger_ war.

Now, fortified with iron! Its the **Shout-Outs!**

**Orestes666:** Why thatnk you! I take pride in my fight sequences, though they've become steadily less technical as my writing progresses. That may actually be a good thing . . . .

**OniRazz:** Big Squall? Hey, that gives me ideas for more fics XD And, y'know, I think Squall won't be needing much in terms of replacements for eyes now . . . .

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Eek. The doom song. D:

**Spikestrife**: Yeah, Griever's evil. Very evil. And mean, too. He may have a certian similarity to a particular red clad insane superpowerful vampire from a particular anime I like . . . .

Eden Elementals? There might be . . . .

**Katy:** Ah, I know the feeling. Checking everday for updates. I do that with reviews. And I think Squall does indeed get around being blind by, y'know, not being blind at all XD

**Chris Ganale:** Why no, those are not Warthogs! AndI did not so often almost write them as "Warthogs" instead of "LRVs" during the prodiction of this chapter. And I did not so rip off the Chief's front Ghost boarding action when Zell took on Malachi. Yeah.

**Solid Shark:** Yah, I had to cut the duel between Alucard and Hades short. Really, it was over last chapter; I just drew it out to make people angry :P

**E:** Well, the way I was writing Diablos,it tends to use attacks that drain life and reduce strength. So, the shadow magic it uses can be considered the gravity attacks the one in the game uses, so to speak. And Seifer against Illarra? Hm.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen:** I loled at your review XD

That's an interesting notion. Would Illarra's death be a good or bad thing for her? She's not a really happy person right now, you know.

And yeah, technically Illarra and Squall are second cousins.

**Arnath Nightblade:** Oh, yes, I am very interested in how this vision of Squall will develop. Very interested :D

**Prodigy: **Sucks about your computer, man. Ouch. :( And yeah, I did cut out squall's eyes. Sucks for him. :P

**Stardust Ray:** You know I like a character when I'm mean to them XD

**TainShairi:** Well...griever, he's not a nice person, I'll say that much. he does get off on hurting Squall, however.

**Leonhartilly:** Squall will get a break soon, hopefully. Maybe for a moment, at least.

**Ragnark:** Yes. You should have, dangit.

**Icedragon6171:** Regeneration is malachi's bag. Squall doesn't necissarily regenerate, especially whan that part of his body just . . . kinda slows him down XD

**JadeAlmasy:** Well, duh. Of course I'm the crazy one!

And I knew someone would like Quistis' defiant nature. Especially in the face of Hyne herself . . . .

Hrm. that fic looks interesting. I may have to give it a look.

**Blue:** Hah! I knew few would be seeing the presence ofHynein this story! And as for your question . . . what do you want me to say? She's _someone's_ daughter, I'll say that much.

I know about the Rinoa-Ultimecia theory. I'm not a fan of it, myself. It just doesn't click with me, andI haven't heard much decent proof in favor of it; just speculation.

**Kimahrigirl:** "Freaky" won't begin to describe Griver and Squall, heh.

**Narishma:** I don't like giving up on a project I've started, especially one this good. I'm planning on going back and continuing Synthesis soon... And thank you for the compliment! Trust me, it means a lot more than you think!

**Kolostramin:** Yes. I did. :P And as for Dollet/Galbadia against Esthar, its less of medival France against modern USA and more of UNSC against the Covenant. Sort of. :P

Anyway, that everyone? Cool.

Until next chapter!


	22. XXI: Reunion

_**Chapter 21: Reunion**_

The Estharian division had broken off after the last of their Overlords had fallen. The tank force protecting the walkers had been severely damaged by the combined vehicle assault, and with Veronica dead and Malachi severely injured, and most of the lead assault force destroyed by the defenders at the trench, it was obvious that the badly mauled division was not going to be able to complete its objective. What remained of the Estharian force fell back, less than a quarter of its forces still intact.

They left a field of dead and dying men behind them, however. The charred and blasted hulks of hundreds of Estharian vehicles littered the field, along with the remains of an equal number of Galbadian and Dollet war machines. Robotic units, tanks, LRVs, and helicopters were left in wrecks scattered about the half-molten snows and swirling mists. Of the three thousand fearless soldiers and SeeDs who had held the line, less than a thousand men and women remained.

However, every soldier and SeeD knew that the losses had not been in vain, for beyond them still stood Trabia Garden, undamaged in the relentless enemy assault.

A small group of soldiers and SeeDs, the remnants of the assault force that had destroyed most of the walkers, managed to trudge through the mud and sludgy snow, to meet the mauled remnants of the defenders at the trench. Among the returning SeeDs was Zell, Rinoa, and Lex, the previous two exhausted from their duels with the leaders of the Estharian division. As they neared the trench, Randolph stepped out, a small gash along the side of his head but otherwise completely uninjured.

"Glad to see you survived," he muttered tiredly to his comrades, who nodded numbly.

"How many did we lose?" Rinoa asked tiredly, and Randolph shook his head grimly.

"Two thirds, at least," he replied. "Those damn walkers tore us to shreds. If you guys hadn't done what you did, we'd all be dead now."

"You can thank Rinoa for most of that," Zell said. "She took out three walkers by herself."

"Three?" Randolph echoed, incredulous. "You were the one who crushed those three walkers at the end?" She nodded quietly. The General stared at her, shocked by the sheer power that Rinoa had to be wielding in order to do that much damage.

"Look, we can't be dicking around," Zell added quickly.

"Why not?" Randolph asked. Zell hooked a thumb to his left, pointing to the south.

"Remember those Garden knock-offs I told you guys about in that Estharian base?" Zell asked. "Well, we've got two of them heading this way, with ten thousand men on each one."

Silence struck the trio as Rinoa and Randolph digested the extremely bad news.

"Shit," the General whispered. _"Twenty thousand?"  
_

"Yeah," Zell replied, nodding grimly. "We can't hang around here."

"Right," Randolph replied. He pressed a finger into his ear, activating his radio. "Trabia Garden, do you read? This is Randolph. Come in." There was a moment's pause, and Randolph nodded. "Gotcha. How much time until that drive system is up and running? About five? Step it up, we've got enemy reinforcements inbound. Out." The General looked south, and then tapped his ear, changing the frequencies.

"Attention all personnel. Initiate immediate withdrawal to Trabia Garden. Pack out the wounded and dead and get them inside the Garden ASAP. We have enemy reinforcements inbound, and we have to clear out now. Move it!"

Randolph looked back at his comrades, and shouldered his rifle, clearly exhausted but at the same time determined to continue fighting.

"We'd better withdraw now, too."

"Right," Zell said. "Let's move!"

* * *

The last guard doubled over, his guts torn out by Irvine's shotgun, and the control room for Iceblood Prison was clear. The sharpshooter swept the chamber, where the last fifteen enemy soldiers had made their final stand, and saw no further enemies. Prisoners stormed in past him, Selphie leading the way with her heavy cannon in hand.

"Where did you get that?" he mused, and she giggled.

"Well, the guards weren't making much use out of it, so I figured I'd borrow it for a bit."

"Well, with this room clear, most of the prison is ours now," Irvine added. "Now we just have to wait for the rest of the troops to free the last prisoners and for Seifer and Nash to get back."

"We won't have to wait long," said one of the prisoners, looking back into the atrium behind them. The pair of SeeDs looked back out that doorway, to see furred prisoners parting and allowing a pair of figures to advance. Irvine winced as he saw them; Nash and Seifer looked worn and beaten, as if they'd just walked through a hurricane. Seifer's tattered coat was wrapped around a bundle in his arms, and it took the sharpshooter and Selphie only an instant to figure out who it was.

"Is she alright?" Selphie immediately demanded as the two battered fighters entered the control room. Seifer glanced back down at the girl in his arms, and nodded silently.

"Diablos' possession exhausted her," Nash explained. "But our battle against it did no harm to her. She's safe, just asleep."

"How about my people?" Seifer asked after a moment. "Are they safe?"

"We lost a few," Irvine said, shaking his head. "But casualties were light. We've gotten control of the prison now. All we have to worry about is getting to the surface."

"And then what?" Seifer asked. "There's no civilization for miles. We'll have to hump it all the way to the nearest town across open tundra."

"Not for long," Selphie replied, and the group looked over, to see her standing in front of one of the consoles lining the walls. She fiddled with some holographic lights as she was speaking. "This place has a pretty advanced communications system. I think I can broadcast a distress signal to Garden using it."

"Won't the Estharians listen in?" Irvine asked, and Selphie shrugged.

"Nah," she explained. "I'm going to disguise it as a standard transmission, but I've included Garden codewords that Trabia can pick up. I'll add a second signal into the transmission that will tell Garden where we are and to send a rescue team."

"They can spot that and pick it out," Nash commented, and Selphie shook her head as she moved her fingers furiously.

"I'm encrypting it," she replied. "They'll break it soon enough, but not before Garden can send a rescue team to pick us up."

"Then all we can do is wait," Seifer muttered, and the others nodded.

* * *

"Get them inside, get them inside, now, now!" Randolph shouted as the last of the defenders hurried through Trabia Garden's main gate. Trucks and soldiers were hurried with all speed toward the main Garden structure; no one knew exactly how the transformation process worked, least of all with Trabia Garden, and Randolph wanted none of his people to be outside the main structure when the anti-gravity drive was started.

The last group of soldiers, carrying wounded and dead comrades on their shoulders or in their arms, made it inside the front entrance, and the General walked in. He pressed a finger to his ear.

"Trabia Garden, all personnel are onboard and accounted for. Begin the transformation process."

Randolph received an acknowledgement, and looked around the interior of the Garden his men had fought for, killed for, and had died in order to protect. Designed in a roughly similar layout to Balamb Garden, Trabia was more utilitarian in nature. There was less flora and fauna, and minimal running water in the interior of the Garden, but an array of statues were scattered around the main, central hub. Unlike Balamb Garden, there was no central column in the middle of the main room, but instead a large fountain which created a wide, expansive pool. Instead of walkways, there was a wide open floor around the fountain, with various pedestals that displayed the many statues. A trio of flags were hoisted over the fountains, displaying the standards of all three Gardens.

Randolph's troops, the Galbadian Rangers, and the SeeDs that had survived the battle were laid out along the floor, many stopping to rest or to tend to comrades, while the more severely wounded were hurried off to the infirmary. Ironically, Trabia Garden had the best medical facilities of the three Gardens, despite its miniscule size compared with the other academies. After all, Trabia was a far more dangerous place than Balamb or Galbadia.

The General walked across the main chamber and sat down at the edge of the pool, relaxing his muscles as much as he could as he took off his helmet. He wiped his hand across his forehead, and his sleeve came away bloody. Checking the reflection of his face in his bayonet, he saw the wound on his forehead was closing. Randolph grunted and quickly drank a healing potion off his belt.

"General?" came a voice beside him, and Randolph looked up, to see Rinoa standing beside him. He nodded, his heart jumping slightly and adrenaline pumping a bit more as he saw the young woman. The Dollet officer had respected her before, but he had never seen a Sorceress' power first-hand. It was rather shocking, and he felt a slight unease around her now.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked tiredly.

"Zell's already headed up to the Headmaster's office, where we think the bridge will appear when the Garden is moving. He and Headmaster Kerr wanted to talk with you about getting out of this mess once we take off."

"Right," he said, nodding. He stretched his tired muscles and stood up. "Will you be coming?"

"No," Rinoa said, shaking her head. "I'm no tactician, honestly. Neither is Zell, he'll need some help." She chuckled a bit, and Randolph smiled. A girl like her shouldn't be in this kind of war.

"That, and my powers are better suited helping these men," she added quietly. Randolph nodded, and patted her shoulder.

"See to my troops, Rinoa," he said calmly. "I'll do what I can to keep us all alive."

The Garden began to rumble faintly, and Rinoa looked up.

"Looks like its starting," she said, and Randolph nodded again.

"I'll get up to the control center," he stated. "Until later." With that, Randolph recovered his rifle, slung it, and jogged across the chamber, toward the north side of the building, where the elevators were located. He rode one of the cars up to the third floor, and moved down a short hallway to the command center. As he advanced, the rumbles grew stronger and stronger.

He opened the door into the command center, and was immediately assaulted by flashes of white light as the ring encircling the Garden floated down past the main window of the command center. Randolph felt his gut shift, as if everything inside the Garden was transforming subtly. The thrummings of the Garden became faster and more pronounced.

Snow erupted past the Garden, whipping around the structure suddenly, and then, without warning, the General felt himself be pushed back slightly as the Garden burst through the cloud of white powder and flew straight forward.

"Do we have control?" demanded a burly, bearded, dark-skinned man from the top of a platform that, shortly before the General had entered, had not been there before. The Headmaster of Trabia Garden, Gerrard Kerr, was rapidly bellowing out requests for status reports and their heading as the Garden's direction shifted slightly.

"Aye, Headmaster!" shouted a SeeD as Randolph rode the lift up to the top of the piloting platform. The speaking SeeD was standing at a control system exactly like Balamb Garden's. "We have control of our heading!" Gerrard turned to the edge of the platform, looking down at a SeeD below.

"Radar, do you have anything?"

"No contacts yet," came the response. "I don't see any enemy aircraft or these Flying Fortresses."

"Keep scanning, they can't be hard to spot," the Headmaster stated. "Meanwhile, get us heading south on the double." Randolph steppe doff the lift, and spotted Zell standing at the edge of the platform, looking down. The brawler heard the sound of the arriving lift over Gerrard's hefty shouts, and looked back, to see the General.

"What's our situation?" Randolph asked, and Zell shrugged.

"We just got moving," he said, and gestured toward the window. "No contact with those Fortresses Malachi told me about yet."

Trabia Garden floated through the air, cutting over the front lines where the defenders had made their brutal stand and held off the Estharians, passing over ruined tanks, slagged, glassy patches of ground, and the hulking, battered remains of the enemy walkers, now looking like little more than toys. The Garden turned quickly, moving around the mountain spurs surrounding the Garden, and moved to the south.

Then, as if to refute Zell's statement, they came into sight along the south, powering to the north over open plains and through thick, snow-blanketed forests. Zell froze as he saw the hulking, dome-like shapes to the south, heading directly to the north and at Trabia Garden. He vividly remembered the same shapes he had seen in the hangar bay within the Estharian base, only a couple of days ago, only now they were laden with troops and weapons, ready for full-scale war.

"Ah, shit," Zell muttered, echoing everyone else's sentiments.

"Enemy craft are closing fast," one of the technicians stated quietly. "They'll be on us in less than five minutes."

"How many men did you say were on those things?" Gerrard asked, glancing back to Zell.

"Ten thousand each," Zell replied. "Twenty thousand total."

"Shit, we've got less than a thousand men on board, and half of them are wounded," Randolph hissed, shaking his head. "Plus noncombatant civilians and staff . . . ."

"Is there any way we can get past them?" Gerrard asked, and Zell shook his head.

"Got no idea what these things are capable of," the brawler admitted. Randolph watched the oncoming enemy, and finally nodded.

"When facing a superior opponent, there are two basic options," he began. "Fall back and perform guerilla actions while waiting for reinforcements is the first."

"Can't do that as we are," Zell replied, and Randolph nodded. He stepped forward, staring out the front viewport and clenched his hands behind his back.

"The second is to attack head on, driving at their weakest point," he continued. "Throw them into disarray by throwing everything at that one spot, and break through. That's what we're going to do." Randolph turned toward Gerrard, eyes blazing with intensity.

"Full speed!" he ordered. "Go right between them! They'll attempt to board us, but we have to beat them back and escape to friendly territory to the south. It's our only option!"

"Booya!" Zell roared. "That's my kinda plan! Dive in! Penetrate and annihilate! Pay them back for everything the did and everyone they took from us!"

* * *

The most grievously wounded were taken to the infirmary of Trabia Garden, where a dozen medical staff, along with a platoon of military medics, were working frantically to stabilize and save the injured soldiers. Well over a hundred men were inside, being treated for every type of wound imaginable.

Rinoa had wasted no time hurrying to the infirmary after her talk with Randolph, and quickly began casting healing spells, sealing wounds and helping to stave off the grasp of death for many men. She worked as feverishly as the medics and doctors, moving from room to room, her magic working miracles.

As the young Sorceress moved down the hallway, she looked into one of the medical rooms, and froze at the sight she saw, which stopped her in mid-spell. Rinoa rushed into the small chamber, where a single figure lay on a bed, bloodied and seemingly dying, a man crouched over her, eyes closed in concentration.

"Quistis?" Rinoa breathed, looking down at her unconscious friend, shocked and confused. She and Zell had seen Quistis get hit by the Overlords hours ago; how was she still alive?

The answer, it seemed, was the man over Quistis, one hand resting on her stomach and the other touching her forehead. Rinoa recognized the man once more.

"Alucard," she breathed. "Did you save her?"

"Yes," he stated distantly, his voice clearly displaying his preoccupation with the wounded and unconscious woman laying on the bed before him. Rinoa could detect the pulses of magic flowing from his body into Quistis' own, and all it took was a simple focus of Rinoa's inhuman Sorceress senses to tell that something was horribly wrong with Quistis' body.

"What happened to her?" she asked.

"We fought The End," he replied cryptically. "Quistis showed incredible spirit, but she was no match for Hyne. The End used her powers to destroy part of Quistis' body. I'm trying to restore her, but it is difficult with so much destructive energy having been used . . . ."

"Will she make it?" Rinoa asked, but then her mind caught up with something else that he had said. "Wait, wait- _Hyne?"_

"That's right, you don't know," Alucard said, nodding to himself. "I'll have to explain everything . . . But later. I cannot leave her as she is. Quistis is dying; my power is the only thing saving her."

"Can I help?" Rinoa asked, and Alucard shook his head.

"I'm restoring a third of her body and counteracting energies that are tearing her apart at the core of her very existence. This is something only I can do."

As he spoke, the Garden seemed to lurch slightly, as if picking up speed. An instant later, the structure-wide intercom blared to life.

"_Attention all personnel."_ The voice was that of General Randolph, clearly speaking from the Garden's command center. _"We've encountered hostile Estharian forces in two flying craft similar to the design of this Garden. They are moving to intercept, and we cannot evade. We're opting to fly between them and make our way south. All personnel, prepare to repel boarders. They're going to try to stop us, and we have to beat those sons of bitches back!"_

The intercom went silent, and Rinoa glanced to Alucard, whose face was drawn tightly. He could only imagine the thoughts running through his mind, questioning whether he should abandon Quistis to aid in the defense, or stay by her side to save her. Rinoa, however, had no compunctions. Without a word, she hurried out of the room and dashed down the hallway leading from the infirmary, toward the main, central chamber.

When she entered, the Sorceress could see the exhausted, battered soldiers grimly preparing themselves, loading rifles and quickly organizing. They moved about with a strangely lethargic frenzy, as if they knew they had to get into position but were aware that it almost didn't matter. There was a sense in their movements and expressions that many of the men and women had lost hope for their survival

Rinoa looked over the battered, beaten, and bleeding soldiers and SeeDs, and a sudden anger swept over her. These warriors had fought one hellish battle, and had walked into a second one, this one with even worse odds than before. Many of them would die before this ended, she knew. How many didn't need to die? How many had already died defending this very Garden? How many would never return home to their families, lovers, children, husbands, wives, or parents? How many would never again breathe the air of their homelands?

"No."

Rinoa shook her head, and as she did so, she felt the pulse of her magic. She would do whatever it took to see every one of these brave soldiers and SeeDs return to their homes, no matter what it took.

Without a second's hesitation, Rinoa ran to the main gate of Trabia Garden.

* * *

Beyond the control room the army of prisoners had found the passages leading up to the surface. Within a matter of minutes of sending the signal, the newly freed army of ex-convicts was walking in the empty, lifeless stone halls of Veronica's castle. None of them knew what had transpired halfway across Trabia mere minutes ago, and how the castle's owner and her army of Elemental rejects had been annihilated by Rinoa. All they knew was that the castle was still and silent.

Considering the way things had been before, that was an improvement.

The four warriors who had paved the way for their freedom led the way, Irvine, Nash, and Selphie leading, with Seifer a step behind, cradling Serra in his arms. He occasionally glanced down at her face, her visage one of peace and calm. He couldn't take his eyes off her; _something_ was so familiar about this girl he was carrying, but what, Seifer couldn't place.

As they walked and the minutes passed, he noticed a change in the manner in which Serra was breathing. She was awakening, he realized, and he kept an eye on her. After a few moments, he felt her move slightly, and Serra's eyes opened, perfectly black pupils with streaks of steely gray running through them. They groggily looked around, and she raised her head, staring up into Seifer's face.

"Relax," he whispered, and a slight, yet welcoming, smile appeared on his face. "You're safe now."

"You . . . ." she said, her voice tired and weak. The girl was still exhausted by what had happened to her. "I saw you . . . fighting Diablos."

"Me and Nash," Seifer replied, nodding. "We stopped him."

"I know," she answered quietly, and Seifer suddenly felt her draw closer to him, tightening herself up into a ball in his arms.

"Should I be scared now?" she asked, and Seifer blinked.

"No," he answered calmly, reassuringly. "You're safe now. All of us are safe. I . . . we won't let anything hurt you, Serra."

He saw the girl smile, and she nestled her head against Seifer's chest and closed her eyes, falling back asleep. Seifer continued on in silence, keeping this tiny, helpless child secure in his arms. He had meant every word he had just told her; nothing would hurt her whil he was keeping her safe.

_Nothing. I can't let a child like you be threatened. This, more than anything else, is my atonement for my sins._

* * *

The main entrance to Trabia Garden was open, and a force of about two hundred soldiers and SeeDs were assembled there. They stared at the closing Fortresses, bristling with thousands of heavily armed Estharian soldiers bent on ending the battle then and there. Each of the SeeDs and troopers steeled themselves, preparing for the fight of their lives. Several of the soldiers and SeeDs had lived through the war with Galbadia and the Garden battle in Centra; they knew what they were up against.

The readied soldiers, however, quickly parted as Rinoa moved through their ranks, and stood before them at the main entrance, staring down the two Estharian craft as they closed in. They watched her, uncertain, but suddenly more hopeful; they had seen Rinoa in action before, destroying legions of the enemy and annihilating Overlord walkers with her sheer fury. They had a chance to hold for the hellish minutes they would need to defend the entrance.

However, the last thing on Rinoa's mind was defense.

Every man and woman at the entrance felt it when a wave of sheer power swept out from Rinoa. Every man and woman stepped back as they could suddenly sense the strength she was calling forth. And every man and woman watched with awe as Rinoa closed her eyes, lowered her hands to her sides, and clenched them tightly into fists.

No one saw the magic reaching out, waves of telekinetic power rippling toward the Fortress on the right. They could not see Rinoa's sight and perception extend beyond her body, diving through air, ceramic, metal, armor, and machinery to drop to the very core of the Fortress to the left of Trabia Garden. Her mind's eye found the power generators and the drive system for the structure.

Rinoa's will touched that drive system.

No one saw the Estharian technicians panic, or the commanders of the Fortress freeze up in terror as the reports blossomed up from the drive system almost as quickly as the flames and lightning that sloughed off the engines like an avalanche of destruction. They did, however, see the Fortress slow, the light dimming in its anti-gravity ring, followed by the structure beginning to drift to the ground, lights glowing within it ever more brightly.

Then the Fortress on the left, and the ten thousand Estharian soldiers aboard, died.

Witnesses called it the biggest fragmentation grenade in history, and they were right; the Fortress detonated from within, flames erupting outward in a roiling fireball as men, armor, weapons, and other materials were launched away in an explosive maelstrom of death.

Rinoa turned to the other Fortress, a slight smirk striking her as she could perceive the men on board, staring at their comrades' craft as it was utterly annihilated.

The surviving craft, however, was too close. Rinoa didn't have time to dive into its drive system and destroy it as she had the other ship, and it was close enough that the flying debris could badly damage Trabia Garden.

Therefore, Rinoa told the craft to stop.

The Fortress came to a complete and abrupt halt as she thrust her hand at it. Rinoa then moved her hand to the side, the titanic forces at her command pushing the Fortress back and away, toward the mountain spur that Trabia Garden had flown around. None of the soldiers behind her spoke, entranced by the incredible power as Rinoa pushed the gigantic ship further and further back.

It neared the mountain as Trabia flew past, and Rinoa raised her other hand, and swept it out behind her.

Part of the mountain shot out, forming a hundred massive stone spikes the size of warships, which ripped into the Fortress's armored plating like wet paper. Rinoa clenched her fist, and then opened it, causing the spikes to become jagged blades. She pushed back against the Fortress, driving it further against the razor blades, watching as the Estharian ship fell apart under the intense duress, impaled on the very mountain itself.

Rinoa's hand, manipulating the mountain, gently pushed back, and the stone blades reformed, reverting to spikes and retracting back into the mountain, leaving the landscape seemingly unblemished and undamaged. However, the Flying Fortress, without the blades to support it, started falling apart, huge chunks of debris raining down over the Trabian plains, metal and ceramic portions accompanied by plummeting vehicles and men. Within moments, the once-proud and unstoppable ship became little more than a pile of scrap metal scattered across the snows.

In the wake of the destruction, there was only the roar of the Trabian wind as it flew past.

Rinoa, her job finished, let a long, exhausted breath, and relaxed. She turned back toward the soldiers, who watched her with awe, amazement, and a slight amount of respectful fear. She took a step forward and then stumbled as pain shot through her body at the shocking expenditure of so much raw Sorceress power. SeeDs and soldiers rushed forward, encircling her.

"Are you okay?" one of them asked, and Rinoa nodded.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I think I may have overdid it, though . . . ."

Meanwhile, up on the bridge of the Garden. Zell and Randolph looked at one another, shocked (and reasonably so) by what they had just seen.

"Umm," Zell began to say.

"Damn," Randolph finished.

"Sir, sir!" came a call from below, and Headmaster Gerrard looked over.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"We're getting a signal, coming from a place to the east," the technician answered. "it's a distress call!"

"Where is it coming from?" Zell asked, and the main screen changed to show a map of Trabia, with a flashing light near the Trabia Crater.

"Shit, that's where Squall was headed," Randolph began. "That's Iceblood Prison!"

"Its not coming from Commander Leonhart, though," the technician continued. "Its coming from Selphie Tilmitt! She's requesting reinforcements and immediate evacuation of over four hundred prisoners from Iceblood."

"Then we're getting it to her," Zell replied, and Randolph nodded.

"Get on the horn with the fleet to the south," Randolph shouted. "Tell them to send every transport helicopter they can spare to these coordinates. We'll send the Ragnarok too to back them up. We have to get our people out of there!"

* * *

Forty minutes after the rescue call was received, Selphie was standing outside the castle keep of Veronica's fortress, crouching low to the icy stones and peering at a patch of blood.

"What is it?" Irvine, behind her, asked, and she shook her head.

"Bloodstains," she replied.

"Could it be from Victor?" Irvine asked, and Selphie shook her head. They had found the brave SeeD's corpse a while back; two prisoners had carried his body with them, and they planned to return it to Trabia Garden for burial. Too few SeeDs were able to return home after they died.

"No, its fresh," she relied, touching it with a finger. "Someone else was out here fighting-" Selphie cut off her thought as she heard a noise.

"Hey, you hear that?" Irvine asked. "Sounds like-"

"Rotors!" Selphie cried. "Helicopters! They're here!"

"I'll go get everyone," Irvine added, hurrying back inside the castle. He quickly spread the word to the other prisoners, who were waiting inside the comparatively warm castle interior. Within moments the freed prisoners hurried outside, looking up into the sky as dozens of heavy transport helicopters filled the sky, their rotors beating the wind like drums of salvation. And in the center of it all was the Ragnarok, swooping toward the open courtyard.

The Ragnarok settled in as the prisoners rushed to surround it, their clothes and hair hurled about by the rotors of the transport helicopters as they descended. The ramp of the airship lowered even before it had completely touched down, and Selphie and Irvine saw a pair of familiar faces emerge from the accessway.

"Rinoa!" Selphie shouted in joy. "Zell!" She leapt up and down, waving her arms, as did Irvine, and the Sorceress and brawler spotted them. They hurried down the ramps, prisoners parting before them as the pair rushed to their comrades. Rinoa swept Selphie into a hug, the pair laughing with joy as Irvine and Zell quickly shook hands. Though it had only been a couple of days since they had last seen each other, all four of the group felt as if they had fought a lifetime through Hell to meet each other again. A babble of voices could be heard among the laughter.

"Jeez, where were you guys?"

"You look like hell!"

"Selphie, Irvine . . . how did you get here?"

"Whoo-hoo!"

Several more seconds of joyous reunion passed between the quartet, and as the initial euphoria wore off, Rinoa became aware of several others who were standing nearby. She looked up, as did Zell, and both the Sorceress and the brawler bristled, surprised and slightly alarmed. He was battered, scarred, dirty, and clad only in fingerless gloves and dark pants, but both of them knew Seifer Almasy when they saw him.

"Seifer," Rinoa whispered, and he nodded.

"Rinoa." His response was cool, calm, and, seemingly, emotionless. There was something exchanged between the two as they spoke, but no one present could pin it down. The Governor turned his attention to Zell, and nodded again.

"Chicken-Wuss."

"Ego-Shit."

That was all that needed to be said. No enmity or animosity was traded between the pair.

Someone moved beside Seifer, apparently hanging close behind him, and Rinoa and Zell noticed. They saw the girl wrapped in the tatters of Seifer's coat, shying back with the presence of so many people around her. She stared at Rinoa, locking eyes with the Sorceress, and for an instant, a chill ran down Rinoa's spine.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly.

"Her name's Serra," Seifer said, and Rinoa looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. There was movement to his left, and she looked over Seifer's shoulder. Zell grinned and opened his mouth.

"Hey, Squall! I knew-" Zell stopped as he came to the abrupt realization that the man beside Seifer was distinctly _not_ Squall, despite the shockingly familiar facial features. A moment's examination confirmed slight differences in his face, as well as the fact that the man seemed far older than the SeeD Commander.

"Not quite," Nash stated calmly, shaking his head. The scientist extended his hand toward Zell, and looked to Rinoa, his eyes lingering on her as he spoke. "Nash. Frederick Nash. I helped your friends and these prisoners escape from Iceblood." Zell shook Nash's hand.

"These guys are popping up all over the place," he muttered, and the scientist chuckled.

"Yes, we are, aren't we?" he replied, a simple statement that surprised Rinoa and Zell. He knew about Crell and Illarra?

"Hey, uh, where's Quistis?" Selphie asked, and Zell and Rinoa glanced at one another.

"She was injured during the battle," Zell explained quickly. "A . . . eh, friend of ours is watching over her. She's pretty messed up, but she'll pull through."

Concern cut across Selphie, Irvine, and (to Zell's surprise) Seifer's features, but Rinoa quickly waved them down.

"We wouldn't have left her if we weren't sure she was safe," she explained. "We went through a lot of hell back there at Trabia Garden."

"Is it safe?" Selphie asked immediately, and Zell quickly nodded.

"Yeah, General Randolph led the defense," she stated. "Don't worry; we took a beating, but the Garden's safe. Its heading south now, toward the Dollet and Galbadian fleets in the ocean. We're going to get everyone to safety now."

As Zell was finishing, Rinoa and Selphie were scanning the area, the smaller SeeD looking around the Ragnarok while Rinoa was peering over the faces in the crowd.

"Hey, where's Squall?" both of them asked at the same time, and the two women locked eyes, equally surprised by the question.

"I thought he was with you," Selphie said, and Rinoa shook her head.

"No, he . . . he dropped into Trabia on a covert mission to find the prison you guys were being held in," Rinoa responded. "You haven't seen him yet?" Selphie shook h er head, and Rinoa spun around, looking quickly at the prisoners surrounding her, desperately trying to find him.

"Then . . . Then where is he?"

There was an exclamation of surprise at one end of the crowd, and the mass of furred prisoners rapidly parted ways, opening a passage as they saw someone approaching from the far end of the castle complex. Rinoa picked out his features first, spotting the hair, the gait, and the glowing blade in his hands, and a smile cut across her face. The figure, for it was indeed Squall, suddenly hurried his pace, walking faster, as if he could tell she was waiting for him. He quickly drew nearer, as his friends, plus an old rival, gathered around Rinoa, all of them joyous to see their friend safe and sound.

But something was wrong. Rinoa could tell it in his movements, his approach, but something was very, very _wrong_ about him.

Her smile turned to an open-mouthed exclamation of horrified shock as he came closer, close enough to clearly see his face.

"His _eyes_ . . . ." It was Seifer who spoke first, but everyone could see the battered figure as he closed in, a fresh cut blazing across his forehead and taking one eye, and a vertical cut that still bled taking his other eye. But still, even despite the horrible wounds, the SeeD Commander walked forward firmly, resolutely, his steps not faltering as he closed in unerringly toward the group.

Rinoa suddenly broke free and rushed toward Squall. He stopped in mid-step, Lionheart dropping from his hands and clattering to the stone before him. His arms reached out and enfolded Rinoa, sweeping her up and pulling her tightly to himself with shocking strength.

"Squall," she began. "Your . . . Your eyes-" He quietly shushed her as he pulled her tightly closer.

"Rinoa," he stated into her ear, his voice a faint whisper of the wind as he spoke. "I . . . I couldn't let myself die. No matter what it took, I couldn't lose. I had to come back to you, regardless of what I had to do."

"What . . . What happened to you?"

"Its over," he answered. "Between me and Illarra. She's not my enemy anymore. We ended that." He pulled back slightly, and she stared up into his torn, bloody face, a slight streak of his own bright crimson touching her cheek.

"Let's go home," Squall whispered, and he managed a smile that told her that this was indeed the man she still loved.

* * *

-

* * *

Phew. that took me way too long to finish. I got burnt-out at the beginning of this chapter, so I had to take a break. Anyway, that's the end of the Trabia arc, and now we're heading to the stunning conclusion of this story! Whoo!

I'm also surprised that, while everyone loved the "getting your ass kicked" comment from last chapter, no one notedt hat it was a line taken directly from Sarge in Halo 2 :P

Also, having recently seen Advent Children...you may see some "inspired" fights from me :P

**Shout-outs o deska? hai!**

**DBZ fanficiton Queen:** Excuse me as I laugh my guts up at everything in that review.

Okay, done. The blinding part may have come from teh Matrix. I dunno,I wasn't thinking of that much, myself. And no, I'm not telling you anything regarding Serra. Serra is a very big secret here :P

**Orestes666:** Oh, yeah, Irivine's scene rocked!I loved writing his bit.

**JadeAlmasy:** oh, yes, I loved Randolph. His speech was inspired by Pip in the Hellsing manga, where he gives these awesome speaches every chapter to his men as they get torn up by vampires. AndI couldn't help but make a jab at myself, too, regarding cheap sci-fi movie knock-offs :P

**Solid Shark:** "Interesting" won't begin to describe this next chapter.

**Chris Ganale:** Yes. yes he did.

No, no, they have the legs and cannon of a Scarab, but the body of an AT-AT. I think. The image in my mind is a bit fuzzy, all I'm imagining is this four-legged insect-thing of DETH. :P

The Warthog use was taken from The One, where Jet Li smacks that cop with a motorcycle. I was originally lanning on Zell using a scout bike asa club during that battle :P

That was an Elemental that Randolph killed.

Trabian snowspeeders? I guessed that was what you were expecting :P I like to do things that my readers aren't expecting like Hyne being a psychotic little girl or Squall losing his eyes.heh.

**Doom18769:** Oh, my, what twisted plans for Squall do I have? Wouldn't you like to know? Pardon me whilst I cackle with maniacal laughter.

**Blue:** I didn't say that Serra wasn't related to Squall. That was sarcasm :P Deliberately vague sarcasm, as I'm not saying if she is or isn't. Or if she's related to anyone.

**Icedragon6171: **Scene transitions are my way of skipping past action I either don't want to or can't think of describing :P So, i got pretty good at doing them.

**Leonhartilly:** He might regret letting her live. Slightly. I'm also amazed at how I was able to go from making her into a psychotic bitch to a more human character that a lot of people sympathize with.I didn't think I could pull it off, but everyone's responses say otherwise :P

**Spikestrife:** I might have ganked it from The Matrix. if I did, I don't remember :P

Kill off a main character? Nah. Cliched. I'm probably not going to do it.

Yes, it seems I did. This is what happens when I get into storylines too complex for their own good. :P I'll, eh, chalk it up to Illarra beign crazy and leave it at that :P

**Johnny:** Squall may be merciless in battle, but he's not heartless. He pities her more than hates her; he said as much himself. Plus, Squall doesn't like killing when it can be avoided. If he was able to control himself from killing her in their firstbattle, he can do it now.

**TainShairi:** Zanshin makes Squall the pinnicle of badass :P

And Rinoa is powerful. Ridiculously powerful. XD Not omnipotent, as this chapter showed, but definitely up there.

**lionheart 614:** Nah. My story's already set in semi-solid concrete. Betrayal is so cliched.

**OniRazz:** Seifer's more badass than the Snake family? Wow XD

**Wolf of Light:** Squall will get a break...when he dies! HA HA HA HA HA:P Seriously,t ings are still gonna be complicated for him for a while longer.

**Kaiser el stupido:** :P Yeah, Zell steals the spotlight way too often in this fic. XD

Oh, if you think Alucard is badass now, wait until you see the next few chapters...

And yeah, I never forgot your suggestion for the use of X-ATM units.

**Kimahrigirl:** Yes, indeed, Seifer and Irvine are kicking ass despite their "only human-ness" :P

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Ew, get those things away from me!

**Platonic1:** If you think Griever is badass, wait a few chapters...

And thank you! That's a huge compliment for me!

That everyone? Swanky.

Till next chapter!


	23. XXII: Assertion

_**Chapter 22: Assertion**_

The room swam into view, starting off as a watery haze that formed from the darkness and gradually becoming more and more focused as the seconds passed. At first all she saw was white light, but that rapidly began to distinguish itself into shapes surrounding her, human figures that she immediately began to recognize.

"Hey, she's awake!" came Zell's voice, and Quistis started to sit up, feeling a wave of revitalizing energy shooting through her, though the sensation was chased by an equally powerful blanket of exhaustion. She looked around the room, immediately registering it as a hospital facility, and saw the faces of the people sitting or standing around her. She looked at each of her friends, equally joyous that they were present, but also shocked at the state they were in.

Zell looked battered, but his grin was undeniable as he stood beside her bed, clearly happy she was alive. She remembered hearing his shout as she had been struck by the blast from those distant walkers, and understood his exultation at how she had survived.

Selphie and Irvine were sitting in a chair, the smaller SeeD in Irvine's lap. Both seemed bruised and looked like they had been through hell, but even more surprising was the intimate way Irvine had his arms draped over Selphie's shoulders. Just a couple of days ago they hadn't been that close, but now, the image of the pair seemed inseparable.

Rinoa stood beside her bed as well, and though she seemed battered as everyone else, she radiated an aura of power greater than she had the last time Quistis had seen her. The young Sorceress seemed stronger and even more certain of herself.

Quistis' eyes fell upon a man standing at the back of the group, deliberately keeping his distance from the others, and it took a few moments for her to recognize him. Seifer's hair had grown out, a scraggly beard cut across his face, and his clothes, or what clothes he was wearing, were tattered and dirty, stained and bloody. He seemed stronger as well, no longer the cocksure, arrogant, pride-filled fool he was before, but something farmore.

But the most shocking moment came when Quistis saw Squall. While he seemed the least wounded or battered of the group at first glance, Quistis then looked at his face, where his bright, confident and determined blue eyes should have been, and saw white bandages wrapped around his forehead and eyes. She stared at him for a moment, horrified by the wounds, yet surprised to see him keeping his head turned toward her face, as if he could see her perfectly.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, and everyone glanced around the room at one another.

"Long story," Irvine, Rinoa, and Zell said at the same time.

"To put it simply," Seifer added from the back. "Trabia's safe, but we've got Esthar bearing down on Dollet with an army of supercharged assholes who are as tough as SeeD and twice as mean."

"That," Squall added, "and Alucard filled us in on the situation regarding Hyne."

"And from what he's explained," Rinoa began, but was cut off by Zell.

"We're pretty much boned," the brawler finished.

"Why do I get the feeling I was better off unconscious?" Quistis asked, and a light ripple of laughter cut across the room.

"You had best rest," cut in another voice from the doorway, and Quistis looked in that direction, to see the familiar figure of the Guardian of Existence standing there, calmly puffing on his pipe, clearly a violation of dozens of regulations regarding smoking inan infirmary. Alucard smiled, and nodded to Quistis.

"I certainly hope you feel better," he continued. "It took a lot of effort to restore your wounded body."

"I do, thank you," Quistis replied. "I owe my life to you. Without you, Hyne . . . ."

"It was nothing," Alucard answered with a raised hand. "I did what I had to do. But now, there are somewhat more pressing matters at hand. I must bid you all a brief farewell; I have business to take care of." Quistis opened her mouth to protest, but the Guardian simply turned and walked away, moving down the hallway and out of sight.

"Not so fast," she heard Squall mutter under his breath, and the SeeD Commander rose to his feet and moved outside the room with agility and sureness that not only denied he was blind, but demonstrated incredible perception of his surroundings.

"Psh, not letting you have all the fun talking with Old Stiffy," Seifer snarled, and was a half-step behind Squall, both men leaving the room in a hurry. Their rapid departure left the medical room more open and less cluttered.

"Well, I suppose I'm the odd woman out," Quistis said with a light chuckle. "You guys mind catching me up on everything that happened? I'm guessing that there's a lot to tell."

"You have no idea," Rinoa, Irvine, and Zell said again, simultaneously.

* * *

"Hold on," Squall said as he jogged after Alucard. 

"Yeah, we're not finished chatting with you," Seifer added. Alucard stopped in mid-stride and turned around, smiling as always.

"Indeed, I suspected you wanted a talk," the Guardian replied with a nod and puff of harmless smoke. "Otherwise I would have simply departed." Squall nodded, well aware of Alucard's annoying penchant for appearing and disappearing instantly whenever he wanted to.

"Very well then," the Guardian continued. "What is it you wish to speak of?"

"What did you do to Quistis?" Seifer snapped, and Alucard raised an eyebrow. He glanced to Squall, who nodded.

"It doesn't take a scanning spell to tell you did something to her," the SeeD Commander stated calmly. "Not to mention I can tell what happened as well."

"Of course," Alucard replied, chuckling. "Zanshin. You and Griever are one now, and without your eyes, you can see more clearly than anyone. So, tell me, Elemental-" Squall bristled at the word "-what did Griever let you see in your friend?"

"There was a pulse of life energy within her that shouldn't be there," Squall stated. "I could see it, coursing through her body. Powerful magic, just like yours. What did you do to her?"

"I reconstructed her anatomy using waves of living energy, the same energy that you yourself use when healing your comrades," Alucard answered. "I had to infuse the energy itself within her in order to combat Hyne's own negative energy which was eating away at her body like a ravenous virus. Once that energy was destroyed, however, the power I poured into Quistis' body lingered."

"So now she's got all this holy living power pumped into her," Seifer concluded. "What does that mean for her?"

"You'll see," Alucard replied with a smile. "Suffice it to say, she's been . . . Gifted, in a way."

"So far, all the 'gifts' my friends and I have gotten aren't all that wonderful," Squall snarled, gesturing pointedly to his eyes.

"This going to come back and bite us in the ass?" Seifer aksed,a nd Alucard shook his head.

"What I've given to Quistis is not harmful, as far as I know," Alucard replied. "And I should know it very well. I certainly hope that my energies will not come back to 'bite me in the ass' so to speak."

"For your sake, I hope it doesn't," Seifer growled. Alucard chuckled, and then nodded once again to the pair.

"If that is all . . . ?"

"Yeah, for now," Seifer muttered.

"Hopefully you'll be back in time for us to plan our strategy against Esthar," Squall added. "We could use all the help we can get."

"I might," the Guardian replied evenly. "It depends on the nature of this business I need to handle. Until then . . . Farewell."

* * *

A few moments later, Alucard exited the infirmary, calmly puffing his pipe, with no further questions or demands from either Squall or Seifer. Without either of the young men pressing him, the Guardian could get about his business; Ramuh would have poked around while he had been helping Garden, and Alucard was certain he had some interesting news to relate. 

A hand slapped on the Guardian's shoulder, and he sighed, stopping in place. Alucard glanced to his right, where the arm had come from, and saw the stern, grim and taciturn expression that Squall Leonhart would have worn, had he still possessed eyes and not bandages around his face.

"Ah," Alucard said, smiling slightly as he recognized the man. "Doctor Nash." Alucard had almost spoke his _actual_ name, but then had stopped, remembering. Such things didn't need to be spoken, especially in the heart of Balamb Garden itself. It would cause . . . complications.

"Existence," the scientist said quietly. "Its been a while." Nash was no longer clad in the tattered white coat of a doctor, but instead was wearing a loose black vest over his black shirt and brown trousers. Fresh fingerless gloves now wrapped around his hands.

"Indeed," Alucard replied. "A great deal of _time_ has transpired, wouldn't you say?"

"Exactly," Nash responded.

"So, why is it that you're here, hm?" the Guardian inquired, and Nash snorted.

"You know why I'm around," he replied. "Not just to help them in that hospital. I've got my own reasons for being here."

Alucard stared into the scientist's blue eyes for several moments, evaluating his intent and emotions, and then nodded silently.

"You're still after _her._"

"Crell's little science project was just a stepping stone," Nash replied. "The only reason I even helped those bastards was so I could get my shot at Hyne. Crell was the only one with connections to her."

"Is that why you'll help them with their war?" Alucard asked, and Nash nodded. The Guardian chuckled, shaking his head. "Hm. You're just lying to yourself, you know that. You _do_ feel camaraderie for those people in there."

"I'll admit, they are so much like my old friends before the war, but . . . ." Nash closed his eyes and shook his head. "All I care about is getting my revenge. They'll fight Crell. Hyne backs Crell. Fight Crell, I get my shot at Hyne. Its that simple."

"Is that why you saved the girl? Selphie, and Irvine, and even the child?"

Nash's response was stony silence and an expression that betrayed as much as a statue's would speak.

"You say revenge is everything that matters to you, but you know that is a lie," Alucard continued. "You want to kill Hyne, but do you honestly think that's even possible for one such as yourself? Even for an Elemental, even for _you_, tackling Hyne is an impossible feat."

"Impossible," Nash snorted, chuckling darkly. He shook his head.

"Impossible is what a SeeD does best."

* * *

After Alucard had left, Seifer and Squall were left alone in the hallway. The two old rivals glanced at one another, not precisely sure what to do or say. They hadn't seen each other in a while, and after three years, both men seemed dramatically different. Squall was battered and scarred, yet exuded an undeniable sense of strength within his very form, while Seifer seemed more collected and less naïve and idealistic. Compared with thetaciturn youth and romantic lunatic they had last known each other as, the men standing in the hallway were almost completely new entities. 

"So." Seifer said.

"Yeah," Squall replied.

Seifer glanced around, and gestured out with his hands, shaking his head and sighing.

"I go to prison for a few months, and when I get out, there's a world war going on, Esthar's ruled by a lunatic bent on bringing back Adel's rule, and you lost your damn eyes."

"More or less," Squall answered with a slight chuckle.

"Ah, well," Seifer replied, shrugging. "I'd ask how you're doing, but seeing all that's going on, I already know the answer is 'shitty'. So, I just have to ask: What's next?"

"Come on," Squall said, gesturing over his shoulder as he moved down the hallway.

"So, what?" Seifer asked as he followed. "What are you guys planning? How are you going to take down Esthar?"

"Why do you want to know?" Squall asked, and Seifer laughed, as if the answer was obvious.

"Come on, Squall, you know me," he replied. "I'm not going to miss out on a good war. This is a thousand times bigger than Ultimecia's little squirrel hunt, that's for sure. I want in on it. Though, I understand if you don't, seeing how you still don't trust me and all. Hell, I wouldn't trust myself, knowing my track record."

"You saved Selphie and Irvine," Squall replied evenly. "That and . . . I can tell I can trust you now. Plus, you're an enemy of our enemy. That technically qualifies you as my ally. And while I'd pick a hundred others to fight alongside before you, Seifer, I will say that there's a few billion I'd rather have as my _enemy_ than you."

"I suppose that's a compliment," Seifer answered with a grin. They continued down the hall, toward one of the medical rooms, and stopped outside Kadowaki's office. To heir surprise, the Doctor wasn't inside, but instead, seated behind her desk, was General Randolph, apparently looking at some medical files. He glanced up as the pair entered.

"General?" Squall asked, and Randolph nodded, the blonde Dollet General standing up.

"Ah, Commander," he said with a smile. "Good to see you again, though I wish you had gotten through your end of the war a little better off." He paused as he saw Seifer. "You are . . . Seifer Almasy?" Seifer nodded.

"Yeah, that's me," he replied.

"General Randolph, Dollet 125th," replied the Dollet officer, extending his hand to Seifer, who shook it. "You were commanding the Galbadians in the battle against Balamb Garden three years ago?"

"Hate to say it, but yeah," Seifer replied. "You were in charge of the Dollet forces in that war, too, I take it?"

"Obviously," Randolph answered. "Ironic. A man from Dollet leading Galbadian forces against a Dollet army."

"Dollet?" Squall asked, glancing at Seifer. The ex-cadet snorted.

"Half-Dollet, half-Timber," he replied sarcastically. "Mother was a teenage prostitute from Timber, and my dead-beat father was a Dollet soldier who got killed in the war with Esthar. Wonderful lineage, huh?"

"I've known worse men with better backgrounds," Randolph responded quietly. "Anyway, Commander, I was just in here accessing some of my men's medical files from when they were treated here after the war. That's all I needed to see. A pleasure seeing you again." Randolph gave both men a curt nod and walked past them, out into the hallway.

"Seems like a nice guy," Seifer muttered. "Blunt as hell, though."

"He tends to be that way," Squall replied.

"Ah, Squall, I'm sorry!" came a voice behind Squall, and the SeeD Commander turned to see Doctor Kadowaki walking up the hallway toward him. "Starting those tests took some time, but she's ready for observation. I have a room set up for her right now."

"Who?" Seifer asked. "Serra?"

"Yeah," Squall answered, and Kadowaki led them down the hall. "I had them put her in the infirmary after we brought her back."

"She's still exhausted, and fell back to sleep right away after we brought her in," Kadowaki added. "She's right over here." The group stopped outside another medical room, where Serra lay wrapped beneath a blanket, sound asleep, inky-black hair pooling around her face in the pillows. A nurse was checking several wireless sensors set up in the room.

"Did you start the tests?" Squall asked, and Kadowaki nodded.

"We're already analyzing the energies within her with these new sensors, and I've had my assistants draw a couple tubes of blood for analysis as well. The physical examination is finished, I just need to go over the data. But from what I can tell, she's in perfect health, just exhausted and weak after her ordeals."

Squall nodded as the doctor spoke, and Seifer remained completely silent, simply watching the sleeping girl. After a moment, the ex-cadet spoke up.

"If you need someone to keep an eye on her, I'll do it," Seifer volunteered, surprising both Squall and Kadowaki.

"You sure?" Squall asked, and he nodded.

"Of course I'm sure," he replied, and Squall shrugged, turning back to Kadowaki.

"Doctor, let me know when the tests are finished," he said, and she nodded. With that, and one final glance at the mysterious girl laying the bed, Squall moved up the hallway, back to where Quistis was talking with their comrades.

Seifer, meanwhile, walked into the medical room, pulled up a chair, and sat down, providing a silent vigil that told anyone who saw the ex-cadet that something was indeed dramatically different about him.

* * *

It was a few hours later, little enough time for the participants in the harrowing events that had happened the previous day to manage to get a little rest, when Squall had called an emergency briefing in Balamb Garden's headquarters chamber. Everyone had quickly enough answered the call, and the meeting room in the Garden command center was packed with the principal players in their ongoing drama. 

Squall stood at the head of the briefing table, looking out over his comrades and allies. Seated to his left were his comrades; Quistis, Zell, Irvine, Selphie, and Rinoa, as well as a half-dozen SeeD officers and high-level commanders, among them Xu. To his right were positioned Laguna Loire, Headmaster Cid, General Randolph, and a number of Galbadian and Dollet officers. Standing off to the side, not actively engaged in the briefing but still present, where the distant and silent specters of Seifer and the scientist Nash. Several television screens showed feeds from President Caraway's office, and the offices of Headmaster Gerrard of Trabia Garden and Acting-Headmaster Kisk of Galbadia Garden. Seated at he far end of the table was Alucard, the Guardian having returned from his mysterious "business" he had alluded to.

Now that all the important players had been brought to the table, Squall began the briefing.

"Okay, the situation is such," Squall stated, turning and walking toward the screen set up on the wall behind him. He tapped it, and it changed from solid blue to a map highlighting Balamb Island. Squall tapped the island itself, and several key locations were highlighted.

"Recent intelligence that SeeD Zell Dincht was able to uncover during the Battle of Trabia Garden gave us credible evidence that the Estharian forces were using the assault on Trabia Garden as a lure to draw out our forces while massing for a real attack against Dollet. Further evidence he has given us shows that Balamb Island will be the staging ground for this Estharian assault, which include a massive force, including elite Estharian combat units and a battalion of enhanced Elemental infantry."

"How reliable is this intelligence?" Laguna asked.

"Very reliable," Zell replied. "Generally speaking, when the bad guy is about to kill you, what he says is usually the truth."

"Gotta love villainous exposition," quipped Seifer from the back.

"With assistance by the intelligence forces from Galbadia, specifically long-range spy planes and spy drones, we've confirmed that there is a massive Estharian force massing at Balamb Island," Squall continued. "This force includes a full Estharian battle fleet of well over two hundred warships, along with six Estharian Flying Fortresses. Estimated strength of the infantry and ground forces these craft can carry runs at over a hundred and fifty thousand men. This massive attack force will be assaulting Dollet sometime in the very near future."

There as a long period of silence as those assembled processed the information that Squall had just given them.

"Well, we're not taking that sitting down," Randolph muttered. "What else do we know about the enemy?"

"I believe our other expert can explain the exact nature of the enemy we're fighting," Squall replied. "After all, Esthar is simply a proxy for something far greater. Alucard?"

"The Commander is correct," Alucard stated, standing up at his end of the briefing table. "The enemy we are facing consists of the human and mechanized forces of Esthar, but these soldiers and machines are but the front-line warriors of a force more malevolent than one can imagine. You see, these Estharian forces are backed by an entity wanting nothing short of the absolute annihilation of everything."

"Wait, what are you saying?" asked Headmaster Gerrard over his live feed. "What are we going up against here?"

"The Guardian of the End," Alucard explained. "The embodiment of destruction and entropy, a being devoted entirely to the annihilation of existence itself. The being often credited with the creation of humanity, whom you call Hyne."

Where stony silence had been before, there was now a ruch of exclamations and frenzied whispers from those who had been unaware of the full story regarding the causes of the war. Alucard and Squall watched the shock passing through the SeeDs and officers present, before the SeeD commander raised his hands, calling for silence. Alucard cleared his throat, and sat back down.

"So, now I suppose it is time I tell you a story."

Alucard leaned forward, peering across the table at all those gathered before him. He took a quiet inhalation of air, and spoke.

"In the beginning, before humans existed, there were only Guardians. Just as you know them. Ramuh, Ifrit, Cerberus, Bahamut, Odin, myself . . . And Hyne and Hades. They existed in relative balance, being powerful forces that could bring their wills to exist on whatever worlds they chose to, against whatever they chose to.

"In the beginning, there was a city. Carpasia, it was called, the City of Dreams. A secret city, a safe city, where Guardians once walked but then left it to the care of its protector, the Guardian of Existence."

"You," Quistis stated, and Alucard nodded.

"Within this city was a most wondrous device: a pool, buried within the chapels and structures and at the heart of the metropolis. This pool was called Zurvan, and it contained the very essence of wishes and reality. It was from here that all dreams spring and all return to. Any who bathed in this pool's waters would have their wishes done across reality, instantly.

"Naturally, this pool was sought after, and the Guardians each wanted it. This resulted in rivalries, for each Guardian's view of how existence should become was different from the next's. War began to be waged between them, but as this war and destruction raged between immortal forces, two beings rose into great power: the guardians of Death and Ending. Hades and Hyne.

"Together, they strove against the gates of the city, and I fought them. The pair was powerful, an equal match for me, and I could not fend them off forever. Finally, deciding that enough was enough, I removed the whole cause behind the chaos by sealing the gates and locking Carpasia away beyond time and space, where no Guardian could get at it. It may only be reached now through a mortal's dreams, which not even a Guardian can intrude upon.

"But Hyne would not be stopped by something so minor as her goalbeing locked away across time and space. She sought to tear down that barrier, but the only way to reach across time and space was to compress it. Unfortunately, the process would compress time unto her, making it virtually impossible for Hyne to go beyond the barrier and enter the city. Ironic, really; the only thing allowing access to the city in fact permanently denies it to the one who uses it.

"So, Hyne required a creature that could utilize her powers to initiate temporal compression. A remote controlled being, so to speak; that would absorb time and allow Hyne to access the city unfettered."

"Thus she created humans." Squall's statement was not a question, and Alucard nodded at his aptness.

"Humans, she judged, were fit to utilize her strength, so after provoking a war to test their willingness to destroy and utilize magic, she gave them a portion of her purely destructive power. Thus were Sorceresses born.

"Eons passed and humans grew stronger, more powerful, and more innovative. With each passing generation the strength of the Sorceress grew stronger, for humans fueled the power of Hyne unknowingly with their never-ending wars and violence. Every bit of death and destruction made Hyne stronger. Finally, Hyne judged that it was time, and she manipulated events so that one Sorceress gained all the power that had been accumulated.

"That Sorceress was Ultimecia, and Hyne fed her the knowledge of how to utilize Time Compression. Ultimecia engaged Time Compression, and Hyne prepared to enter Carpasia at the moment time was destroyed at her own monster's hands. But something happened that she never expected."

Alucard looked around the table, at Squall, Rinoa, Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Quistis.

"You six."

"No surprise there," Zell commented, and Alucard nodded.

"You killed Ultimecia. Naturally, this ruined Hyne's plans as time restored itself. However, interesting things happened. You see, when Ultimecia reached back across time, it caused minute changes to the timeline of your world, rippling effects that grew larger and larger. This culminated with the discovery of Ultimecia, and therefore an awareness that she could indeed exist. I'm not entirely certain, but that she did what she did may in fact have assured that Ultimecia herself will _never_ exist in this new timeline.

"However, when time rewrote itself, certain other effects happened. The only one who seemed to have survived the final battle was you, Squall; yet the memories and experiences of the Guardians from Ultimecia's time were transferred to the new timeline as time rewrote itself. That included Hyne, and thus the Hyne that exists now knows that attempting Temporal Compression is inevitably doomed to failure."

"So, what does that mean for us?" Selphie asked, and Alucard shrugged.

"Whatever her purpose is, she is supporting this war against Garden, Dollet, and Galbadia. That means that this war has to play into her hands, and not merely to increase her strength. There's more to this war, I know it, but the nature of the pieces of this puzzle elude me."

"So, we're back to square one," Randolph muttered, shaking his head. "What do we do?"

"The enemy is going to hit Dollet hard," Cid replied. "We have to stop them."

"Agreed, and I've already got as many divisions as I can muster en route to Dollet now," Caraway replied. He paused, thinking for a moment. "I can get at least seventy thousand to Dollet by the end of the week."

"By that time Crell's armies may have already landed," Randolph replied. "Our armies are strong, but they won't be enough to stop a force of that size, especially if they have SeeD-level Elementals. Not to mention Esthar's navy outnumbers Dollet's ten to one, easily."

"Even with the Galbadian navy assisting yours, we will be hard-pressed to fend off a naval assault," Squall added. "Their ground forces substantially outnumber what we have. Even with SeeD backing up the Dollet military, we won't be able to hold the city against a force of that size."

"What options do we have, then?" Cid asked. "We can't let the Estharians get a foothold. They've already taken Balamb Island; if they capture Dollet they'll have a port where they can land their armies and push deeper inland. If they take Dollet they can overwhelm us with sheer numbers and firepower."

"Wait, wait, wait," Zell said, suddenly standing up. "Squall, you remember the battle with Galbadia Garden?"

"Yes," Squall replied, nodding.

"We're in the same situation," Zell responded, holding his hands out wide. "Except it's a lot bigger!"

"What do you mean?" Squall asked, and then he nodded, suddenly understanding. "Of course . . . ."

"What?" Randolph asked.

"We're thinking about this the wrong way," Squall replied. He had to stop thinking tactically, and think strategically. "We can't defend the city; we don't have the manpower to get a large enough force to drive off the Estharian assault. Even if we do, the Estharians will continue to attack and eventually overwhelm us with sheer numbers."

Squall stood up and walked toward the map, tapping Balamb Island. He traced a line from the map screen between Dollet and the island, and turned back to his comrades.

"SeeD doesn't work on defense," Squall explained. "Well, not perfectly. We're an offensive force; we take the fight to the enemy." He jabbed his finger at Balamb Island.

"We're going to hit them _first_ before they can hit us. Hammer their weakest spot with everything we've got."

"A first strike," Randolph said, nodding. "Yes. That can work!"

"We've got work to do, people," Squall finished. "Let's see what we can hammer out, and then rip it apart and weld it back into something that won't blow up in our faces. This plan has _got_ to work."

"Booya!" Zell shouted, pumping his fists. "Let's kick some ass!"

* * *

"A division." Crell sat behind his desk, the scenic view of Estharian-conquered Balamb Island panning out beyond in his wide window within Flying Fortress Alpha. The command Fortress, where the new Estharian dictator was heading up the planned assault on Dollet, was moored outside the small town of Balamb, with five other massive Fortresses surrounding it. The town beyond was packed with uniformed Estharian soldiers, and the island beyond that was rapidly becoming a massive staging ground for the Estharian invasion forces. However, none of this occupied the attention of Crell Varines as he stared at the pair standing in front of his desk, face turning red with anger. 

"You lost and entire Estharian _division_ against a paltry force of ill-equipped westerners and SeeDs?" he snarled, standing up, eyes blazing with fury. He reached own, hand grabbing one of the data disks on his desk and his arm pumped forward, hurling it.

Major Eric Malachi stood impassively as the glowing data disc deflected off his forehead, not showing any emotion as his commander exploded in fury.

"Sir, there were . . . Unexpected complications that arose."

"Yes, I expected complications," Crell replied immediately. His hand swooped down, knocking over a stack of discs and holograms on his desk. "But you said you could handle complications! You assured me that your Elemental company would wipe out the SeeDs and destroy whatever pitiful force that the Galbadian and Dollet militaries could dispatch! So, tell me, how the _hell_ did ten thousand fully equipped Estharian soldiers fail to break a hastily assembled force less than a third their strength? _How?_"

"It's not my fault, sir, that Veronica Anderson wrongfully assumed she could defeat Rinoa Heartilly on the field of battle," Malachi explained. "If you review the data from that battle, you'll see that it was Rinoa who annihilated three of our Overlords, ensuring my forces could not break through the Galbadian, Dollet, and SeeD defenses. She was also the one responsible for the annihilation of the two Fortresses immediately afterward."

Crell stared at Malachi for a long moment, before sighing explosive and sitting back down, unable to justify his rage at the commander of the assault. He turned his eyes to the holographic data display hovering over his desk, and silently reviewed the data.

"Iceblood is a disaster," he whispered. "The entire prisoner populace escaped, all personnel save for Odine himself wiped out, and the complete loss of the prototype . . . ." Crell shook his head. "At least the data archives are intact and Odine is still alive. The Requiem armor is also intact. But with Almasy loose and Nash having betrayed us . . . ." Crell shook his head, and looked at the other person standing across from his desk, narrowing his eyes. "And you, Illarra . . . You may have fucked everything up for us!"

Crell's daughter, the bruises and cuts on her body almost fully healed, stood by impassively as well, her eyes not even focusing on Crell as he spoke.

"You gave Leonhart Griever!" Crell snapped. "The most powerful Guardian Force in our arsenal of Pure Elementals! And if this "Zanshin" he now possesses is what you report it as, you may have just handed the enemy their ultimate weapon, gift-wrapped and on a silver platter!"

Illarra did not immediately reply, and Crell sighed again.

"And even after you tore out his damned eyes, you still failed to finish the fool off because of your blind enmity and hatred!"

"President," came a voice, and Crell looked up, and immediately relaxed as the diminutive and deceptively innocent form of Hyne strode between the two lieutenants, the deadly and intimidating specter of Hades looming behind her, scythe balanced across his shoulders as if in warning.

"You honestly should relax," Hyne continued, stopping before his desk, a smile cutting across her childish features. "It isn't your daughter's fault that she underestimated the effects of Griever being introduced as an Elemental. However, even with Griever and the Guardian Force sight, he isn't invincible. Your daughter is an Elemental of near-equal power, after all. She can defeat Leonhart. Not to mention that he possesses Griever, who is hardly the most beneficial of Guardians. He may do more harm to the boy than help him."

Crell considered the Guardian of The End's words, and finally pounded a fist into his desk in impotent fury.

"Illarra. Dismissed!" he snarled, and the woman nodded curtly, turning and leaving. Malachi glanced over his shoulder as she left, and then back to his commander. Crell nodded, and Malachi quickly saluted, before following after her.

"The situation is still not good," Crell continued. "While I can absorb the loss of thirty thousand men easily enough, the fact that Rinoa Heartilly now commands such incredible power is extremely troubling. That and the loss of the prototype to Garden, and the release of Almasy, as well as the fact that Garden now has two pure Elementals, plus that traitor Nash making for three . . . ." Crell shook his head, gnashing his teeth. "This is tremendously frustrating!"

"President, you forget that you still have your trump card," Hyne replied, and the President nodded after a second, looking to Hyne. "After all, myself and Hades still stand with you. Your daughter is a pure Elemental and more than a match for any of the enemy save for Squall Leonhart himself. And you have the Elemental battalion as well. Not to mention that the entire military force of Esthar isunder your command. You still have the overwhelming advantage, despite your enemy's recent successes."

"Yes," Crell said after a few seconds, nodding. "This is true."

"And besides," Hades cut in with a smile. "The 'plan' is still in effect, right? I mean, win or lose at Trabia Garden, the _real_ objective was achieved. You said it yourself when we planned this whole shindig, all that mattered was the attack itself, not whether we wiped them out or not. We just _expected_ to win. But in the end, it doesn't even matter whether they have Trabia or not."

"You're right," Crell replied, settling back in his seat. He clenched the armrests, and suddenly smiled. "Of course. The plan will continue regardless of this failure. I will pay back Garden for this insult to Esthar!"

He stood up, the gleam of madness and conquest flashing in his eyes.

"And once we destroy Garden in this battle, _nothing will stand in my way!"_

* * *

"Illarra," Malachi began, following the woman into the hallway outside Crell's office. He paused as he saw the woman, standing quietly in the middle of the corridor, twirling her knife in her left hand absently as she stared down the passage. The soldier stepped around her, and looked into the woman's eyes, seeing the distant expression she wore. After a second, Illarra snapped out of it and glanced up at Malachi. 

"Major," she asked quietly. "I just want to know . . . Who is my enemy?"

"Your enemy?" Malachi echoed, and shook his head. "You know as well as I do. Our enemy is whoever stands in the way of the President's, and therefore Adel's, conquest. And your enemy in particular is Leonhart." Illarra, listening to him, managed a tired laugh, and shook her head as well.

"No, that's not how it is," she replied. "When we fought last time, I told him . . . I told him everything. And he told me he pitied me. _Pitied._ After everything I had put him through, that man simply felt sorry for me and what I had done."

Malachi stared at her as she spoke, and bristled when she continued.

"How can I call someone who can't hate me my enemy? How can I hate a man who would forgive me after everything I had done to him?"

"What are you saying?" Malachi asked. "Are you not going to fight for us anymore? Are you abandoning us?" Illarra laughed.

"Squall said . . . he told me that my enemy was that which makes humans destroy each other. He said I hated that which drove us to kill each other. He told me that I hated that dark side of humanity, as that, more than he, had been what had caused my childhood. So, I have to purify myself. I have to go beyond humanity. I want to see as clearly as he can."

Malachi watched Illarra's face as she spoke, and he saw, clearly, the madness that cut into her gaze as she was speaking, and he knew that she was slipping further and further into insanity. However, even Malachi, aware as he was, did not expect to see her raise her knife, and burst into a wild peal of laughter.

Moments later, the door into Crell's office burst open as he finished his statement that he would triumph, and the Estharian dictator stared in shock as his daughter strode into the room, laughing with manic glee, her knife dripping blood.

"Father, let's hurry up!" she shouted. "I want to see Squall again! I want to fight him again, and this time, I want to end it, once and for all!"

And as she spoke, blood poured down the front of her face, dripping onto the floor, streaming from the eyes she had just gouged out.

* * *

"Its not going to work," Squall sighed. He laid back in the bed, leaning his head back from Rinoa's hand, and she sat back as well, crossing her arms. It was dark, nearing midnight, and even with the only light in their bedroom being the moonlight streaming in from outside, she could still see the painful pair of scars cutting across the front of Squall's face, crossing over where his eyes should have been. 

"Well, it won't if you don't let me try to heal them," she sighed, and then reached forward, grabbing Squall by the front of his white undershirt and hauling him closer. Her hand surged with glowing white energy, and the SeeD sighed again as she put her hand to his face, letting the healing magic flow into his features. The magic played over Squall's face and head, working its wonders . . . .

And when the light faded, the scars were still there, and his eyes were not.

Rinoa cursed, and Squall raised one of his eyebrows, surprised to hear her speak so candidly.

"Griever's interfering," Squall whispered, shaking his head. "He won't let my eyes be healed. It doesn't matter how powerful the magic you use is, it won't restore my sight if we won't let it happen."

"I just . . . ." Rinoa whispered, and then reached forward, brushing her hand across the vivid scars stretching over Squall's face. "Those eyes. I can't see them anymore. When I first saw you, so long ago, the first thing I noticed about you were those eyes." She leaned in closer, hugging him tightly, and he reciprocated, inhaling her scent.

"Those beautiful blue eyes, so confident and intelligent, and yet, a little bit scared." She managed a slight laugh. "I think that was what made me fall in love with you. I saw so much in you through your eyes. I saw your fear, your determination, your anger, the side of you that you kept hidden from me until Fisherman's Horizon. Your eyes . . . . they were what I thought about when I went to rescue you in Time Compression. And now that they're gone . . . you just don't seem like the same."

"Eyes or not, I'm still here," Squall replied into her ear. "And I can still see you. I can see you even more clearly now than I could when I still had them." He pulled back, and looked at her with his scarred vision, turning his head, his expression shifting unconsciously to that of a child looking at something fascinating as he stared at Rinoa's features.

"What do you see?" she asked, curious.

"Everything," he replied quietly. "All the energy in your body, all your spiritual power . . . ." he ran a finger down her face. "I can see the blood, the muscles, your lips, your skin, everything so clearly. Your face, your hair, your eyes . . . I can see it all so perfectly. It's amazing. Like . . . like I can see down to your soul. Incredible."

"I wish I could see you the same way," Rinoa replied, touching Squall's face again. He smiled, putting a hand over her wrist. There was a moment of intimate silence between the pair, and Rinoa started to lower her hand, when Squall found his fingers not releasing her. He blinked, and looked down to her hand, and he found his grip tightening.

_**Such a delicate wrist. If I give it a twist, what sounds will she make?**_

_Griever!_

_**Indeed. Such a wonderful situation. You two are so perfectly intimate, so close, so perfectly bonded together. I wonder what will occur if something were to . . . happen?**_

_If you do anything to her-_

_**What? What will you do, Squall? Kill me? Laughable. You do understand the danger of this situation, don't you? Imagine the pain, the anguish, the grief you would feel if Rinoa were to suffer at your own hands at my bidding.**_

_No!_

_**I can cause you so much suffering right now. Imagine if I were to drive you to strike her. What would her response be? Would she trust you ever again? Would you even trust yourself around her? What if I took control and made you slaughter her? Bathed you in her blood? I wonder what would happen to you? How would you feel if I did that to the most important person in your life?**_

_You . . . you wouldn't, you bastard._

_**I would. I can, and I should right now, just to see your anguish and grief. But . . . no. Not yet. Just know that, at any moment, I can do this to you, Squall Leonhart. Know that, and act accordingly.**_

And just like that, the connection ended, and Squall was left sitting on the bed, staring at Rinoa in horror.

"What happened?" she asked immediately, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I sensed something in you, but I didn't know-

"Griever," Squall answered. "He . . . spoke to me."

"About what?"

Squall said nothing for several moments, and then shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," he replied after a moment. " i just-"

The phone next to their bed rang, surprising both Squall and Rinoa. After a second ring, Rinoa reached across and grabbed it.

"Hello? Yes, Doctor. I . . . wait, you did? Yes? It's finished? Okay, we'll be down there."

"What?" Squall asked as Rinoa lowered the phone.

"Kadowaki," she answered. "She's finished the tests on Serra."

* * *

The infirmary was still and quiet at that late hour, when Squall and Rinoa arrived. They stepped into Balamb's medical facility, looking around. The nurse's desk at the entrance was empty, the monitor off, and the only real light beyond the faint glowing lamps in each of the medical rooms was coming from Kadowaki's office. 

The pair entered the doctor's office, where the aging, portly woman was sitting behind her desk. She looked up and smiled.

"Good to see both of you," she said, and Rinoa nodded. Kadowaki glanced at Squall's face and winced; the scars were still painful to look at. Rinoa glanced to the side, and saw Seifer sitting in one of the chairs in the Doctor's office. He looked a lot different now that he'd managed to clean up and shave. He almost looked like the old Seifer they had known, just a little more exhausted.

"She's completed the tests," Seifer said quietly, but his voice seemed apprehensive. Both Rinoa and Squall nodded, and sat down. Kadowaki's fingers started tapping on her keyboard.

"As you asked, I went ahead and took the tests on the girl you brought back," the doctor began. "The same tests I gave you, Squall, when I was checking you out. I'm still trying to unravel what exactly has happened to both of your bodies, though your changes are vastly more recent, and therefore, your body is still changing and adapting. Serra, on the other hand, has had this 'Elemental' modification for a long time, at least two or three years, by my estimation."

"That fits what Odine told me and what Nash told Irvine," Squall said, and Kadowaki nodded.

"Preliminary analysis of her body shows that she has the physical body and brain and mental development of a twenty-year-old human female, and analysis of her brain shows she should have a rough intelligence quotient between one-hundred-eighty and two-hundred-fifty, with it likely leaning toward the higher end of that estimate. I won't know until I actually perform an IQ test, but as it stands, she's got a mind that can shatter the best geniuses in the world."

"What about her energies?" Rinoa asked, and Kadowaki tapped a few keys. "Nash told Irvine that Serra had two Guardian Forces implanted in her."

"He's right," Kadowaki answered. "Selphie radiates ice element energies, with a pattern reminiscent of Shiva, and Squall, you radiate energies of a darker sort that I can only guess belong to Griever. Serra radiates multiple energy elements, but the two sources that are the strongest match up with the Garden data on Diablos and Phoenix, beings of shadow magic and fire and holy power, respectively."

"Phoenix?" Seifer echoed. "That matches my dreams I saw of her . . . ."

"I'm not sure what these lesser powers are," Kadowaki continued. "But the elemental properties of the energies match various other elements: ice, earth, water, wind, lightning, and so on. They do not match known Guardian Forces, however, and I suspect that these powers may even be inherent within her body naturally. She seems to have the full magical capability of a true Sorceress, like you, Rinoa, though she obviously isn't a Sorceress herself."

"The Elemental Project existed to create artificial Sorceresses," Squall replied. "So, Serra might be their ultimate achievement, even though she's a prototype . . . ."

"The changes that have occurred to you, Selphie, and Serra have not fundamentally altered your DNA," Kadowaki continued. "Despite the changes in your physical and mental abilities, all of you still remain, for the most part, humans. Therefore I can analyze each of your DNA for similarities." Kadowaki looked up from her monitor, her eyes meeting each of the three sitting across from her.

"Serra's DNA, after analysis and comparison with the samples we have on file, turns up a combination of sequences that have two distinct matches in our database, and more importantly, her DNA profile is actually on record here in Garden's database."

There was a moment of silence in the office as that sank in.

"So its true," Squall whispered. "The two matches are her parents?"

"Yes," Kadowaki replied.

"Who is it?" Rinoa asked.

Kadowaki turned her monitor around on its swivel mount so they could see. Three charts showing base DNA sequences were visible. At the top was a chart labeled "Serra." Below this chart were two additional ones, marked "Parents."

The first one . . . .

_Rinoa Heartilly._

And the second one . . . .

_Squall Leonhart._

A moment of silence filled the office as the words on the screen sunk into the trio of people sitting across from Kadowaki. The DNA didn't lie . . . But what was being suggested was still impossible.

"Well, hey," Seifer suddenly quipped. "She isn't mine, at least."

* * *

-

* * *

And the secret is finally (officially) confirmed! (oddly enough, in the intiial draft Seifer was Serra's biological father, but I changed that when I started writing this)

Ayiyiyi. That took too long to write. Still, buncha shockers and plot development and exposition, eh? And soon enough, a major battle will be brewing! Though that may be a chapter or two away; next chapter is heavy on inter-character interaction.

Okay, and now, for the **SHOUT-OUTS OF BLAZING!**

**OniRazz**: Seinior Snake haha. I heard him called "Geriatric Snake" by others. But even Senior Snake may have to take a backseat to Squalland Alucard in the upcoming chapters...

**Xephon**: Wanked out Squall? O.o That's a scary thought.

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen**: Yeah, Rinoa being powerful may cause her aLOT of problems in the future...

Well, now you know what happened to Illarra. It wouldn't be Illarra without a bit of complete fuckign insanity, huh?

**Solid Shark**: Indeed. Do not piss off Rinoa. You'll see why soon, even moreso! Andwe might just learn a thing or two about Nash soon...

**Chris Ganale:** Ha! You caught the Pillar of Autumn reference! And yeah, Rinoa is a step above most other Jedi. Even Revan, Yoda, and Palpatine have to bow down before her :P

And you got the image of the Overlords down right.

**Tain Shairi:** Oh yes, she did. And she will continue to do so in the future.

**Serene Angel Wing:** Thank you! I love it when people say i'm as good with my originals as I am with the actual characters from the game!

**Kitty Kyinsky:** Oh, yes. Advent Children has exactly the awesome battles I'm aiming for here...

**Kimahrigirl:** Power? You haven't seen anything yet...

**Orestes666:** A lot still does need to be straightened out between all of our intrepid heroes. There's still a whole lot of story left to unravel, and quite a few secrets yet needing to be unleashed.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Well,I already had pretty much the exact same idea in my head, and I knew that if Squall got his eyes healed, well, things wouldn't work out the way I had planned. So, I was already ready with the whole Griever going "lol cockblockedheals" a long time ago :P

And also, River > Reavers. River > all.

**Platonic1:** Ironically, its also something I myself am not a big fan of. I do think Rinoa is (necessarily) overpowered.

**JadeAlmasy:** You'd better have a newfound respect for her!

**E:** I don't know whether this review makes me happy or sad. :P

**Kaiser:** Oh, you betcha.

Angelo? Dammit, I knew I forgot something! Damn dogs!

And I use :P too often. :P

**Blue:** Ha! Gotcha! Serra IS Squall's daughter!

And no, Squall and Seifer aren't badass enough yet, in my opinion. :P

**Doom18769:** Oh, it is horribly twisted and evil. Bad shit happens to Squall, I will assure you...

**Delathen:** I'm well aware that Rinoa is extremely powerful. (though technically all the did was make the one ship's reactor overload and used high-tier geomancy on the other) I know this may present a problem for the future.

Am I going to do anything about it? I'm not saying :P

Though iw ill say,r emember your FFVIII: Sorceresses got part of Hyne's power, but the weaker half. Hyne has the stronger half, which may say a thing or two about what Hyne is capable of.

**Icedragon6171:** Who said the story was drawing to a close?...Oh, wait, I did. Since when have you guys ever trusted me?

**Johnny:** Getting doubled over by a shotgun? Its, uhh, fanfic physics. Yeah.:P And as for Rinoa's powers, again, I'm well aware that she's getting very freakishly powerful. I've taken this into account :P

**Betweenheavenandhell: **I would have used "Yub-Yub, Commander" but there's no Ewoks in FFVIII. :P

That everyone? Spifficlicious.

Until next chapter...


	24. XXIII: Briefing

**_Chapter 23: Briefing_**

It was the next morning, two days after the battle on the plains of Trabia, and Squall looked out over the briefing room. Unlike the conference room where they had met in yesterday, this chamber was a large amphitheater on the second floor of Balamb Garden. The three hundred seats stretching across the room were filled with soldiers, SeeDs, and officers, and many more were standing in the aisles or at the back of the chamber, straining to see Squall as he went over the basic battle strategy they had laid out.

"Intelligence indicates we're up against a force of roughly a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand enemy infantry," Squall stated. As he spoke, the massive screen behind him displayed images of Balamb Island, along with overhead maps and reconnaissance photos. "Of that number, we estimate sixty thousand are on board the Flying Fortresses moored outside Balamb Harbor. The remainder are on the warships moving with the fleet.

"The basic strategy here is simple," Squall continued, and an arrow lanced out from Dollet, curving around the north side of Balamb Island and coming around tot he west. A second arrow split off from the first one and moved straight toward the island and the enemy positions.

"Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia Gardens will swing to the north of Balamb Island and come around to the west, hitting the enemy forces from their backsides."

"Commander?" asked one of the SeeDs, and Squall nodded, letting him stand up. "Sir, how are we going to engage the enemy? The naval guns of those warships will rip our Gardens to pieces."

"That is where the second half of our attack will come from," Squall answered, highlighting the second arrow. "A substantial naval force of Dollet and Galbadian warships will sail with our fleet and assault the Estharians from the south. With any luck, they will draw out the armed enemy naval forces, leaving Balamb Island and the Estharian Flying Fortresses relatively unprotected. We sweep in behind them and launch a surprise attack.

"Due to recent reconstruction and renovations to all of our Gardens," Squall continued, "The carrying capacity of Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia Gardens have been increased significantly. We can house a total of twelve thousand infantry on Galbadia Garden, ten thousand in Balamb Garden, and five thousand in Trabia. Current Garden manpower totals at roughly five thousand Galbadia Garden SeeDs, four thousand Balamb SeeDs, and somewhat less than a thousand Trabian SeeDs . . . although we have suffered losses in the recent battle outside Trabia Garden. All deployed SeeDs who can be readily recalled are being brought back now, so we should have about nine to ten thousand total in SeeD forces. The remainder of our forces will be made up of Galbadian and Dollet infantry.

"The tactics regarding the actual attack are somewhat complex," Squall continued. "Galbadia Garden has been retrofitted with two-dozen Anvil-III Galbadian anti-ship missile launchers. When we engage the enemy, Galbadia Garden will sail alongside and slightly ahead of Balamb Garden. Trabia Garden will sail directly behind Balamb Garden. When we near the enemy, Galbadia Garden will intercept any forces the enemy directs at Balamb Garden itself, utilizing its anti-ship missiles and sheer size and manpower to ward off any attacks directed at Balamb Garden. Balamb Garden itself will move in and launch a direct attack on the Fortress that President Crell Varines will be utilizing as his command ship. Trabia Garden will provide heavy fire support in the form of magic users, summoned Guardian Forces . . . and Sorceress Rinoa."

* * *

_Four hours ago . . . ._

"Are you ready for this?" Squall asked quietly. He watched Rinoa intently with his eyeless gaze, the bandages obscuring his livid scars as Rinoa calmly checked her crossbow, inspecting the weapon with all the care of a professional, experienced SeeD. She nodded, as he sat down in a chair across from her.

"Of course I am," she replied. She looked up at him, frowning. "I've already fought through two battles in this war as it is. And before that we fought at Centra, remember?" She leaned forward, touching Squall's bandages with a finger, expression shifting to a tender image. "But I need to know if . . . if you're ready for this yourself."

Squall was silent for a moment, but then reached up and took her hand, squeezing it for a moment before letting it go.

"I can handle my part of this battle," he answered with all seriousness. "No enemy could touch me before. Now, I'm almost invincible." Rinoa listened to those words, and knew simply from Squall's tone that he wasn't boasting or even stating that out of overconfidence. He was speaking the cold, hard truth.

Anyone who went up against Squall was going to _die._

"If you say so," she replied quietly, smiling. Her hand dropped, running down the side of his face and through his short beard. "But . . . you're not telling me everything. There's something wrong . . . something that's been wrong since last night. What is it?"

"Even without my eyes you can read me like an open book," Squall whispered, laughing quietly. After a moment, he shook his head. "It's . . . it's Griever."

"What about him?" Rinoa asked, looking over Squall's body as if searching for the entity that pulsed through his veins.

"He's not what you'd expect," Squall continued. "Even after the battle with Ultimecia, I was thinking that she had done something to corrupt him, to make him evil. I always held this image of him being noble and powerful, but he's nothing like that." The SeeD Commander touched his chest, his face tightening. "Griever . . . he exists to hurt and cause suffering. He's a sadistic monster. Hyne lives to destroy, Alucard lives to maintain existence . . . and Griever lives to cause pain."

Rinoa listened intently, and as he spoke, she put her hands on his shoulders, staring into his bandaged, eye-less face.

"Squall . . . ."

"He's spoken to me," he continued. "And what he's saying . . . it terrifies me." He reached up to where his left eye had been, touching the scarred wound delicately, wincing in remembered pain. "This eye . . . he took it from me. He can take over my body, or at least he can for a brief moment. He hasn't made me do anything with it yet, except to make me lose this eye . . . but I'm terrified of what he might be able to do now."

"Do you . . . think he can turn you on your friends?" Rinoa asked. "On us?"

"Yes," Squall answered without hesitation. As he spoke, Squall leaned back, breaking free of Rinoa for a moment. He stared at her with his white gauze of a gaze, and shook his head again.

"When we go to fight Crell," he stated after a moment. "I . . . I don't want you near me. I don't want him to try to take over me and hurt anyone I . . . anyone I love. That's why-"

"That's why you chose this plan," Rinoa asked, and Squall nodded.

"The only way I can ensure that Griever won't hurt my comrades . . . is if I surround myself with the enemy."

* * *

"The three Gardens," Squall continued with the briefing, "Will be commanded by specific SeeD officers. SeeD has had the most experience operating with and fighting with craft the size and design of Garden, so we know how to put them to best use. Trabia Garden will be commanded by Xu, one of our most experienced SeeD officers. Balamb Garden will be commanded by Quistis Trepe." 

"Sir?" asked one of the SeeDs, as a ripple of surprise went through the group of officers at the fact that Squall would not be commanding Balamb Garden. Squall nodded to the speaking SeeD.

"Why are you not commanding Balamb Garden?"

"That is an aspect of the plan I will discuss later," Squall continued. "Suffice it to say, Quistis Trepe is one of the best officers we have, and the one I most completely trust to carry out the command of this Garden during this battle."

* * *

_Three hours ago . . . ._

Three glowing red orbs arced in front of her, flashing and cutting rapidly back and forth. They moved with dizzying speed, whirling and spinning around in a random series of wildly varying trajectories, in patterns that would be almost impossible for anyone to hit.

Quistis' chain, however, snapped out with unerring precision and speared one of the orbs, causing the hologram to flash blue and then disappear. She whipped around, the rante in her hand striking the next orb dead center as it went through a complex pattern of spins, loops, and radical directional changes. Her wrist flicked, and with that simple casual motion, the rante's blade head went flying across, arcing into and through the last orb as it cut across in front of her.

There was a faint tone, and the SeeD relaxed as the training program ended. The dimmed lights of the holographic chamber rose, illuminating the walls of the square room, one of a quartet that Garden had added over the last few years. She shook her head as she snapped the whip back, easily catching the blade head and looping the weapon around her arm.

_That was one of the highest-level training exercises. Three weeks ago it took me five minutes to hit all the targets, but today I finished in under thirty seconds . . . ._

Quistis attached the rante to her belt and turned away from the center of the room, heading for the entrance. however, as she came around, she spotted a familiar figure standing at the entrance to the chamber, leaning on the doorjamb, smoke emanating from his pipe.

"Alucard," Quistis said, and the Guardian nodded, smiling slightly as a cloud of harmless smoke wafted past his face.

"I heard about the battle plan," the Guardian stated, and Quistis nodded. "And I agree with the Commander on his choice for the command of Balamb Garden."

She blinked at the praise. To hear something like that from an ordinary soldier or SeeD was one thing; for the Guardian of Existence himself to say it was something completely different.

"Thank you," she offered, and Alucard nodded again. Quistis moved toward the door, and raised an eyebrow at the Guardian, who simply stood up straight, accepting the unspoken invitation to walk with her. They moved out into the corridor, which was filled with SeeDs, soldiers, and cadets hurrying about their tasks as they prepared the Garden for combat.

"Will you be fighting with us?" Quistis asked hopefully, remembering Alucard's intense show of power during the battle in Trabia. The Guardian sighed sadly.

"Unfortunately, my dear, I must say no," he replied. "There are . . . other matters at hand."

"Such as?" Quistis asked, not hiding her disappointment.

"Hyne's overall scheme is greater than just this battle," Alucard continued. "What she intends to do extends beyond a simple war . . . but her precise plan is still a mystery to me. I need to know what it is so we can take the appropriate course of action to stop her."

"Where will you be going?" she asked, and the Guardian shrugged.

"I need to speak with a friend of mine, Ramuh," he explained. "Guardian of Storms. We have been trying to figure out how to fight Hyne in this most recent upsurge of her power, but until we understand the basics of her plan . . . well, this war is fairly low priority." He paused, and glanced sidelong at Quistis, before affording her a slight smile. "And might I add, Quistis, your display back there was most impressive."

Quistis glanced down at her right arm, and flexed her muscles slightly, nodding. She could feel the strength running through her arms and veins now, greater strength than what even a Guardian Force junction could give to her.

"Ever since the battle with Hyne, I feel so much stronger," she replied. "My mind works faster, I can see things more clearly, my muscles are more powerful . . . ."

"I had to go to great lengths to save you," Alucard stated quietly. "My own energies were needed to keep you alive." he paused, coming to a stop, and so did Quistis. He reached out and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "Some of the very energy of existence itself runs through your body. What effect this may have on you, I am unsure."

"You've never done it to anyone else before?" Quistis asked, and Alucard shook his head.

"No human has ever withstood a direct attack from Hyne like you did," he told her. "You were the first I could have saved from total annihilation at her hands . . . ." He stopped after a moment, and then shook his head. " am sorry, Quistis, but I need to leave now. I must meet with Ramuh, to see what he has learned in my absence."

The Guardian bowed toward her slightly at the waist, and then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Quistis said quickly, reaching up and grabbing his shoulder. Alucard turned around to face Quistis, eyebrow raised.

"Yes?" he asked. She stood there for a moment, not entirely certain of what to say. Finally, after three long, silent seconds of hesitation, she decided to not say anything, and instead stepped forward on impulse.

Alucard was _exceptionally_ surprised when Quistis kissed him solidly on the lips, and then took a step back, her pale face slightly flushed from embarrassment. He blinked a couple of times, and finally, quietly, laughed, smiling.

"I suppose that's a good way to say 'thank you,'" he mused, and she nodded again.

"Yes," she replied after a second. "I, uh, couldn't think of anything else to say."

"Actions speak louder than words, Quistis," he stated, and then bowed again, this time more deeply. "Please . . . keep yourself alive through all of this."

"I will," she promised Alucard, and with another smile, the Guardian of Existence turned and vanished into thin air.

* * *

"Galbadia Garden's commander has been specially chosen for his role," Squall continued. "The job of controlling this Garden must fall to someone aggressive and fearless, and to one who has specifically commanded this Garden in war before. I have my implicit trust in him, despite his . . . _checkered_ history. 

"The command of Galbadia Garden has been entrusted to Seifer Almasy."

* * *

_One hour ago . . . . _

He was leaning against one of the bookcases in the library, casually paging through the latest issue of Weapons Monthly. Freshly shaved and hair cut back, Seifer Almasy almost looked exactly like he had before he had started down that fateful road that made him Garden's enemy. None of the cadets or SeeDs in the library were nearby; those who had been around during the war were nervous around him, and those who had joined after the war were a bit awed by the legendary cadet who some said could stand even against Squall himself.

His coat and other clothes were being cleaned, so he had instead scrounged up a simple white shirt and some dark brown trousers. He almost looked respectable, which was a notion that, at some basic level, kind of irked him.

He heard movement on the other side of the bookcase he was leaning against and looked up, in time to see Rinoa round the corner, Squall right behind her. She glanced at Seifer, who gave her a short nod as way of greeting, and then looked away. She followed his gaze, to see him checking on the girl sitting at one of the Garden data terminals. Serra was gazing into the computer screen, reading articles from the Garden mainframe. She was clad in a spare female cadet uniform, though unlike the ones they'd been using a few years ago, these now had trousers, a change Squall had implemented early into his career as Commander.

"How is she?" Rinoa asked, and Seifer shrugged.

"She's been reading for about four hours straight," he replied, glancing back at his magazine. "Its amazing. She can read a full page in under twenty seconds. I think she's burned through about a quarter of Garden's encyclopedia already. She's absorbing information like a dry sponge."

"I'm guessing she doesn't know the truth," Squall murmured, and Seifer nodded.

"She hasn't hinted anything about it to me," he added. "After she woke up in the infirmary this morning, she asked if we had any books she could read. I got her some clothes and brought her in here, and I think she almost died of joy."

Squall nodded, and he and Rinoa shared a quick glance. It was almost unnerving, seeing his bandaged, blind visage meeting Rinoa's as if he still had them . Seifer wasn't sure precisely how Squall was still able to see without his eyes, but he figured of the Commander could see, then it was all the better.

"Just a second," Rinoa told them, and broke away from the two men, starting toward Serra. "I want to speak with her." Seifer and Squall nodded as Rinoa moved toward her daughter. After a second, Seifer turned toward Squall, scowling.

"I don't like this plan," he muttered, and Squall nodded calmly, turning his bandaged face toward Seifer, seeing his clear unhappiness.

"I know," he replied. "I don't either, but I think this is the only way it might work."

"You want to put _her_ in combat," Seifer muttered, shaking his head. "She's not a fighter! She's just a child!"

"And she's also the only way to prevent massive casualties among your own men," Squall stated. "Galbadia Garden is going to have twelve thousand soldiers on board, and most of them are Galbadia Garden SeeDs, Dollet troops, or Galbadian soldiers. Very few of whom use junctions." Squall sighed and shook his head. "If they encounter even a few companies of Crell's Elementals . . . ."

"I know," Seifer hissed, clenching his free hand as his other clutched the magazine tightly. "Hell, I'm not even sure of a Balamb SeeD would match up even against those Elementals, much less Dollet or Galbadian infantry. But to put Serra on the front line . . . ."

"You know what Nash said," Squall stated. "Serra both absorbs magic and can sap the power directly from a normal Elemental's body by simply being near them. If she's on Galbadia Garden, it'll even the fight."

"Yeah, and not many of the troops there use much magic anyway," Seifer added, nodding. "But even so, Squall . . .she's not ready for a battle quite like this one. She's a child, dammit!"

"That's what I wanted to speak with you about," Squall replied coolly. "I don't want her fighting on the front lines, but I know that when the enemy hits your Garden, the shit will be hitting the fan. I want you to pick out a special team of SeeDs to be her bodyguards. A small squad to keep her safe and away from the engagement."

Seifer stared at Squall for a moment, and then nodded.

"I get to pick whoever?" he asked, and Squall nodded.

"Preferably SeeDs specializing in physical combat," he answered, and Seifer snickered.

"That's a given, Squall," he replied. "I'll get a decent team together, though I'd need access to personnel records."

"Naturally," Squall replied. "Galbadia Garden's defense and combat organization has already been set up, so you won't need to worry about organizing the troops. I've already got a candidate in mind to command the troops locally so you can focus on the larger battle."

"Where's the fun in being the armchair general?" Seifer snorted. He glanced back at Serra, who was talking quietly with Rinoa. He watched the pair for a moment, noting Rinoa's warm, friendly approach, compared with the more hesitant and subdued Serra. She obviously had not had a lot of contact with humans before . . . .

"Are you guys going to tell her?" Seifer asked, and Squall shook his head.

"Not yet. I want to wait until we're past this before dropping that bomb," he stated quietly. "We're still not sure how we'd explain it, or even if she'd understand at first."

"You got any idea how . . . you know, how it happened?" Seifer asked.

"Hyne," Squall snarled.

"Heh," Seifer muttered, snickering again. "Yeah, she seems to have a hand in every cluster-fuck nowadays, huh?" He paused for a second. "So, how was she involved?"

"Nash and Odine explained that they received a stillborn infant with nearly perfect genetic structure as the initial template for the Prototype," Squall said. "Our daughter. Serra. Hyne was the one who gave her to them."

"So, Hyne basically snatched the baby's body after it died?" Seifer muttered, shaking his head. "Man, I know she's an evil bitch, but grave-robbing is just nasty."

"They revived her, and the Elemental process was performed on her body. The Elemental powers and changes accelerated her growth rate. She's twenty years, physically and mentally, but she's got all the experiences of a three-year old."

"A walking bundle of pure innocence," Seifer added. "Damn. I wish we didn't need her for this . . . ."

"You and me both, Seifer," Squall whispered. The ex-cadet looked at Squall again, and noted the tautness of his features as he stared with his eyeless gaze at where Serra was sitting. It took Seifer a moment to understand; Squall knew the gravity of the situation. he knew what he was doing.

_Shit. He's sending his own daughter into combat. What does that do to a man, to put his own innocent child into combat against overwhelming enemy forces? Squall would never do this willingly . . . ._

"Ultimately," Squall whispered, "there is one question we need to ask her. I'm not going to put her into combat unwillingly. Everyone who is going into this battle is a volunteer."

He broke away from the bookcase and walked across the room to where Serra was sitting. The girl had started to warm up to Rinoa as they had been speaking, and was talking a little bit more, even smiling. She obviously wasn't nervous about talking as much as she was before. As Squall, with Seifer right behind him, drew close to the pair, Serra looked up over her shoulder.

"Hello," she said quietly as a greeting, smiling courteously. Squall nodded, a slight smile cutting across his features as well, what Rinoa called his "friendly" face. For Squall, a slight, almost imperceptible smile _was_ being friendly.

"Serra and I were talking about what she's been studying," Rinoa added, sitting next to the girl in another chair. Serra herself nodded quickly.

"I'm trying to read as much as I can," she explained. "I want to see everything in this library before the battle begins."

"You know about the battle that's coming up?" Squall asked, and she nodded, her expression shifting to a slightly apprehensive one.

"I overheard everyone talking about the war with Esthar," she explained. "The odds are against us for winning, and things look kind of bleak." Squall, Rinoa, and Seifer were a bit surprised to hear her use the term "us" in regards to Garden, but they covered it up well.

"That was what I wanted to talk about, Serra," Squall asked. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Serra, looking her dead in the eyes with his bandaged face. "The odds are against us, I'm not lying. We expect casualties in the upcoming battle . . . and I want to know if you'd be willing to fight with us."

Serra's eyes widened slightly, and she looked back and forth to Rinoa, Seifer, and Squall. She seemed to consider the question for a several seconds.

"I'm not going to ask you to fight for us," Squall continued. "Garden is all-volunteer. You don't have to fight for us if you don't want to. If you-"

"Yes," she said suddenly, surprising Squall. If he had eyes, he would have blinked in shock.

"You will?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Everyone here has been very nice to me, and Irvine and Selphie came after me and tried to help save me," she explained. "That and . . ." she glanced at Seifer. "Seifer's going to be there. I . . . I think I want to pay him back for what he did in the prison."

"Are you sure?" Rinoa asked. "This battle is going to be nasty."

"Of course I'm sure," Serra answered, nodding firmly. All three of them caught something in her eyes as she spoke, a flash of strength and determination, something she had picked up from both her parents. "If I can protect my friends and Garden . . . I will."

"Thank you," Squall whispered, and she nodded. He slowly stood up. "If you have any second thoughts-"

"I won't. You can trust me. I'll fight with you no matter what it takes . . . even if I might not have full control over myself just yet." Seifer winced, rubbing his chest where Diablos had started tearing into him with his shadow magic.

"Well," Rinoa added, "Your powers are a lot like a Sorceress'. Maybe I can show you some techniques to utilize them and control them. We . . . well, we haven't seen you use them yourself just yet."

"You'll help me control them?" Serra asked, and Rinoa nodded.

"As much as I can teach you before the battle begins." She stood up, and Serra did so as well. "Come on, let's go to the training center. I can show you how to use your powers there."

* * *

"While Almasy will be in command of the Garden itself," Squall stated, "The large number of primarily Galbadian and Dollet soldiers will demand the leadership of someone with extensive experience in commanding large numbers of troops. Therefore, I have chosen Dollet General Randolph of the Dollet 125th Infantry Battalion to lead the soldiers who will be fighting on Galbadia Garden."

* * *

_Three hours later . . . ._

Seifer grunted and shook his head as he put the tattered gray-white coat back on. The Garden cleaners had managed to get the bloodstains out of it, but the battered coat would likely never get all the dirt and grime free. Still, it felt good to put on some clean clothes for once.

It also felt good to have a decent shirt on, and the short, basic black one he wore was covered by a full suit of ash-black torso armor. Additional ceramic plates and pads were strapped to his arms, forearms, shoulders, thighs, and lower legs, hidden beneath his trousers and coat. Wouldn't do to go into battle unprepared, and he wanted to get used to wearing armor again.

The ex-cadet sat in the room he had temporarily been given, sharpening his saber, the crafted blade having worked well in Hyperion's absence. The broken gunblade had been discarded, Seifer throwing it aside just as he had cast aside his ambitious dreams. Until he had atoned, Seifer had vowed, he was not worthy of possessing Hyperion once again.

There was a knock on his door, and the ex-cadet looked up.

"Open," he grunted, and the door swung out wide, revealing, to his surprise, the blonde-haired Dollet officer, Randolph, clad in battle fatigues and apparently equipped for war at a moment's notice. The man carried a long case with him.

"May I enter?" he asked, and Seifer nodded.

"Pull up a seat," he offered, and Randolph did so, setting the case on a table. Seifer regarded the officer for a moment, and then grinned.

"So, since we're working together on the Galbadia Garden angle, you want to talk?" Randolph nodded.

"Yes, indeed," he replied. "You were a good commander during the war between Galbadia and Garden."

"And you had some balls yourself," Seifer added, and Randolph smiled slightly at the compliment. "Not like some Dollet punks. You know, like my father."

"Yes, your father," Randolph added, nodding. "It was a sad thing when he was lost."

"You knew him?" Seifer asked, sitting forward.

"Fairly well," Randolph replied. "He was deployed on a ship against Esthar, but in a naval battle, his ship was sunk and he was captured. I suppose capture by Esthar under Adel more or less counts as 'killed in action.' You'd might as well be dead if she had you prisoner."

"I heard the stories," Seifer replied, putting his sharpened saber into its sheath. "So, what was he like?"

"Regretful," Randolph continued. "He was always regretful that he had been sent out to fight. Not afraid, but rather, he wanted to go home. Before he had deployed, the night before he had left, he encountered your mother. It was the usual deal, you understand; a young soldier about to go to war, never having been with a woman before, and a young prostitute needing money. But, after it was over, your father . . . he spoke with her, and he realized that people like your mother were half the reason he was fighting. He wanted to save people, to bring the downtrodden out of poverty, to defend the weak against the ravages of evil. He fell in love with her, and when he went to war, he promised her, and himself, that he would return someday, to bring her out of her despair."

Seifer listened to the story for a while, silently, reflecting on the words of the officer as he had stared out the window, retelling the tale of his father.

"Wow," Seifer whispered. "I . . . I always assumed my father wasn't that type, that he just paid my mother for a quick fuck before going to fight. I never thought he . . . ."

"It was a long time before he returned, but by then, your mother had died of a disease she picked up during the plague shortly after Deling took over Timber," Randolph continued. "He was heartbroken, and he returned to the military, never knowing anything about you, until he checked into some records after the last war."

"You mean," Seifer said, looking back at Randolph, surprised. "My father is . . . alive?"

"Yes, he is," Randolph continued. He patted the case. "And . . . this is something he wanted to give to you. Unfortunately, he's been deployed elsewhere, so he asked me to give this to you at the first opportunity I could find."

Seifer looked over the case again, and then flipped open the catches, opening the lid. he stared down at the object inside, and then back at Randolph.

"How did he know?" Seifer asked, and Randolph smiled, standing up.

"He has his sources," the Dollet officer replied, and then turned around, leaving Seifer's room and the ex-cadet to his thoughts and memories.

After several moments, Seifer reached into the case and extracted the object, holding it up to the light. The grip was as solid as he remembered, and the weight was perfectly balanced. It was almost like meeting an old friend once again.

_Hyperion. Am I worthy to use you again? Have atoned for my sins? Have I paid back for the crimes I committed while using this weapon?_

Seifer looked to his saber, in its sheath, and then at the reforged gunblade in his hand, and smiled.

"We'll see," he whispered.

* * *

"Commander?" asked a Galbadian officer, and Squall nodded. The man stood. 

"Commander, with the Estharian fleet engaging our forces to the south of Balamb Island, the Estharians will be on alert. They may very well have air support flying close air patrol around our targets. How will we be countering this?"

"Dollet and Galbadia will be proving air support with fighter-bombers, which will deploy from forward airbases inside Dollet shortly after we leave. They will fly close to the ocean surface north of the island to avoid detection by Estharian sensors. When we launch our attack, they will cut south over the mountains and launch an aerial assault on enemy ground emplacements, destroying any grounded aircraft and engaging airborne Estharian threats. We also have the assistance of two wings of defectors from the Estharian air fleet, led by the best of Esthar's fighter corps, Raptor Squadron.

"The actual air wing we have flying in this battle will be led by Garden's own airship, the Ragnarok, which will be flown by Selphie Tilmitt."

* * *

_Two hours later . . . ._

"So, what next?" Irvine asked staring up at the clear afternoon sky over Dollet. He was laying on his back, hat being used as a cushion to keep his long brown hair from falling into the sand on Lapin Beach. Clouds drifted past the sharpshooter's line of sight as he relaxed, for what was likely the first time he'd gotten a moment to rest since they'd returned from the ordeal at Iceblood prison.

"How 'bout . . . nothing?" Selphie asked, laying on the beach beside him, head right next to Irvine's, though her body was pointed in the opposite direction, so her eyes were near his chin, and vice versa for Irvine.

"Nothing sounds real good," he said with a chuckle.

"Heard they're almost finished tooling up Ragnarok," Selphie added. "Good thing Mike didn't screw it up too badly."

Irvine turned his head toward Selphie, his nose brushing her slightly chilled cheek. The tiny SeeD was very protective of the airship, which she had virtually taken absolute control of. At least Mike was halfway equal to her piloting skill, which had impressed Selphie enough to let the SeeD pilot fly her ship while she was deployed on missions.

"Hopefully the new add-ons you ordered will be done soon," Irvine said, and she nodded, looking to him. He caught an adorably diabolical smile and look in her green eyes as she thought of the new armaments being fitted into her personal flying death machine.

"Cluster bombs, anti-ship torpedoes, and four 220mm lock-on missile pods," she said, entirely unable to hide her glee.

"Heard the mechanics were going to give it a new nickname," Irvine added, and she nodded.

"Yeah, they couldn't come up with anything good," she said, shrugging. "'Death from Above' and 'Hell's Personal Ass-Kicker' just don't have the right ring to them. That's why I gave them a new nickname for it."

Indeed, she had. That was why the Garden mechanics were writing in large, black, slashing letters tracing across the front fuselage, the new nickname for Selphie's personal killing platform: **_Genocide In A Can_**.

"Selphie, you're crazy," Irvine muttered, and she laughed again.

"That's why you love me, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," Irvine added.

The pair looked at one another for a moment, and then, completely on impulse, Irvine leaned his head over slight and poked Selphie in the middle of her delicate nose with his tongue. She frowned as he did that, and then scowled.

"Don't do that again, Irvy," she warned in a mock-serious tone. The sharpshooter paused for a second, thinking about it, and then shot his tongue forward again, touching her nose a second time. This time, though, as he pulled back, he found his tongue stuck to her face. It took the sharpshooter a second to realize what she had done.

"Irvine, I have total control over cold magic, remember?" she asked in a playful voice, and the gunslinger moaned something as he tried valiantly to free his tongue from the nose Selphie had frozen it to.

"Thelthie, leth me gu!" he protested. She responded with mock-diabolical laughter.

* * *

"I've also finished some last-minute personnel assignments," Squall continued. "Officers, be sure to double-check check your rosters. Also, make sure that your troops have taken care of personal business. Since we launch the attack at daybreak tomorrow, all troops and support personnel are getting leave for the evening. I'd strongly suggest that all of you avoid partying too hard; we'll need to be rested and alert in the morning."

* * *

_Twelve hours later . . . ._

The corridors of Balamb Garden were darkened slightly, appropriate enough for nighttime. The Garden was not exceptionally quiet at this late hour; there was a party going on in the cafeteria and Quad, an impromptu celebration that had been thrown almost spontaneously, starting with Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin and then steadily growing.

Zell walked down the corridor in Balamb Garden's residential complex, the subdued lights making the passage seem smaller and more intimate. It was sort of appropriate, he mused, as he neared his door and turned around, scratching the back of his head in anxiety. Sure, he had been out to parties before . . . .

"That was fun, Zell," Ellone remarked, smiling at the brawler from beside him as he stood by his door.

. . . . but he hadn't actually been on a real _date_ before.

_Granted, there hasn't been much time for, y'know, dating,_ Zell thought to himself. _Wartime tends to get in the way of all that. Though Squall and Rinoa didn't have much trouble, and neither did Irvine and Selphie . . . ._

"Yeah," Zell laughed, remembering the party. Hell, half the Garden and what seemed like three battalions of soldiers had turned out for it. Ellone watched him for a second, and then giggled. She immediately tried to suppress it, but Zell caught the slight laughter she was making. ". . . .what?"

"You're acting a lot like Uncle Laguna," she explained, and Zell blinked before realizing Ellone was right. Heck, even down to the scratching of his head . . . .

"Whoops," the brawler muttered. Both of them cracked up for a second, Zell letting some of his lingering anxiety fade. It wasn't but a few days ago that he had pulled Ellone from the hands of that sick bastard in the heart of the Estharian base, and here they were just getting back from a party which, for all intents and purposes, had been a date for the two of them.

"It is getting late," she said after a moment. "I need to head back. Squall and Laguna had arranged for me to have a hotel in the city to stay at for the night . . . ."

"Yeah, you should go," Zell replied, glancing at his watch. he blinked, surprised. It was still ten hours until daybreak? It felt later than it should have.

Ellone nodded, but she seemed to hesitate. Zell felt like saying something at that moment, but was unsure about exactly what to tell her.

_Irvine said that girls love the whole "tomorrow I may die" speech if you're going to war, but I don't like it. It feels too cheesy right now._

"Look, uh," Zell began to say, and hesitated before continuing. "If things go bad tomorrow . . . well, it'll be real bad for Dollet and Galbadia if we lose. If you hear any bad news, you get out of Dollet, okay? Crell's going to be after anyone who can prove Laguna is alive." Ellone listened for a moment, and then nodded slightly. She seemed concerned for a moment as he spoke, but when Zell finished, she finally smiled.

"But, Zell," she replied. "I know I won't have to worry about my safety."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to kick that traitor's ass!" Her response caught Zell completely off guard, and he couldn't help but laugh at her confidence and trust in him.

"Thank you," he said to her, and she nodded. He reached up and put his right hand on Ellone's shoulder, and shook her slightly. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too, Zell," she replied. "And punch one of them for me."

"Sure thing!"

Zell pushed the door to his quarters open with his left hand, and glanced back at Ellone.

" . . . good night," he said, sadly. He definitely didn't want her to go now, but he needed to rest up and gear up for the attack.

"Good night," she whispered back. He started to pull his right hand away from her shoulder. It dropped down, and suddenly stopped as she caught his fingers. Reflexively, he squeezed slightly, and so did she, stopping their hands from pulling apart.

Zell looked down a her hand and her delicate fingers clasping his rough, calloused one, and then back at her. Ellone mimicked the motion; she, too, was surprised that he had deliberately held on. They watched each other for a second, and both of them read the same thought in each others' eyes.

_Who are we kidding?_

Several seconds passed in that hallway, which felt almost like an eternity to the pair.

"You want to come in?" Zell asked quietly, and after a second, Ellone nodded.

After all, there were still ten hours until daybreak.

* * *

"Sir," cut in another SeeD, and, Squall nodded to the man, allowing him to stand. "Sir, even with these tactics and this strategy, we're up against an enemy several times our size. The odds are definitely not stacked in our favor, and the only hope we have of winning this is if we take down Crell himself in his own Fortress. Even then we might not stop the Estharian assault. This seems almost as suicidal as the Battle of Centra. Sir . . . I'm assuming you're aware of this?" 

"Yes," Squall replied, nodding. "I know that we are currently engaged in a war with an enemy who has many tremendous advantages against our own forces. Esthar has superior technology and manpower, and I have no doubts that we would lose in a direct battle of might, even with all three of our militaries combined together. However, the only reason Esthar is involved is because Crell Varines has manipulated his people into supporting this war."

Squall straightened, and stood tall behind his podium.

"That is why I have formed a specialized strike team, who will infiltrate Crell's Fortress during the course of the main assault, codenamed Team Dagger. The primary purpose of Dagger is to end this war by exposing Crell's treachery and deceit to the Estharian people. Team Dagger consists exclusively of a five-man team with specific tasks. The first element of the team is codenamed Truth, and it will consist of Laguna Loire, and his two bodyguards."

* * *

_Four hours later . . . ._

"Wow," Seifer remarked as he sat back in the cafeteria, propping his legs up on the table. "So, you guys got to be Laguna Loire's personal bodyguards?"

"Yeah, man!" Raijin replied grinning. The huge muscle-bound warrior sat back in his chair, smiling like a fool, while Fujin sat up straight, all business as usual. "Hard to believe we'd get a gig like that, but Laguna must have gotten some good references, ya know?"

"YOU?" Fujin asked Seifer, who blinked, and then shrugged.

"I had to get away from things for a while," he replied. "Y'know, think about my past, wonder what I could have done better, come to grips with my faults and failures, all that boring bullshit a writer would like to glaze over sometimes for his characters." The ex-cadet glanced down at his waist, where the reforged Hyperion was sheathed. "I guess I'm past that stage now. Now its time to kick ass. And there's no one I'd rather kick ass with than you two."

"Hell yeah!" Raijin said with a laugh, and Fujin nodded, smiling slightly.

"AGREED."

"And yeah, I know the plan," Seifer added. "So, you two are going to be keeping Laguna safe while he basically saves the world?" Fujin nodded again.

"AFFIRMATIVE!"

"Oh, yeah, ya know," Raijin added. "Won't be that hard, though with all the ruckus that'll be going on, ya know."

"Well, I'll rest easy knowing you two are keeping our ticket to winning this war safe and sound." He sat forward, grinning. "Now, under ordinary circumstances, meeting back up with some great friends like you guys, I'd say the three of us go out somewhere and get shit-faced drunk and have a helluva party. But I really don't want to fight on a hangover." Raijin and Fujin nodded.

"BUT," she said.

"We _can_ have some fun before we go to war tomorrow, ya know!" Raijin added, and Seifer nodded, bringing his feet off the table and slamming his boots into the floor with a resounding thud.

"Let's get this party started," Seifer said, shooting to his feet. "Come on guys!"

* * *

"The second element of the strike team will consist of myself and one additional volunteer, and the element is codenamed Deception. Deception's job is to get inside that Fortress and draw all attention from Truth while they prepare to expose Crell's treachery. We will do this by causing as much destruction as possible." 

"A volunteer?" someone asked, and Squall nodded.

"The volunteer is not going to be named, but suffice it to say, between the two of us, we are quite capable of causing the necessary chaos and destruction we'll need to keep Truth safe."

* * *

_Twohours ago . . . ._

"You and me, huh?" Nash asked. He was sitting on one of the cliffs overlooking the ocean around Lapin Bay, the central bay area of Dollet, where the three Gardens were moored. It had taken Squall the better part of an hour to hike his way up there to meet with the other Elemental as he looked over the sea.

"Precisely," Squall answered, and Nash nodded, clenching his fist tightly. "Irvine and Selphie told me of what you did inside Iceblood. Someone like you is perfect for Deception."

"The two of us can wreak a lot of havoc," Nash commented, his clenched fist momentarily blazing with fiery energy before fading. The scientist looked back at Squall, and stared into a face so like his own . . . well, excepting the beard and the lack of eyes. He then looked away from Squall and back out to the ocean.

Squall looked down at the scientist's side, seeing a long bundle of thick cloth, roughly around the length of a rifle or sword. Nash kept fiddling with the bundle as he watched the ocean below.

"Hyne's going to be there, isn't she?" Nash hissed, almost in anticipation.

"Most likely, if she's backing Crell," Squall said, and the scientist nodded.

"Good."

"You have a grudge with her?" he asked, and Nash chuckled.

"One like you wouldn't believe," he answered. "To put in simple terms, she fucked me over. Really badly."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Squall replied. "She tends to do that to people."

"Yeah, but this case is a little bit different," Nash clarified. "I've been looking for her for a very long time. And when I find her . . . ." Flames ran down Nash's right arm, blazing with incredible intensity, rising up in color from yellow to white and then blue. It was as clear a definition of intent as Squall needed; the burning hatred within Nash rolled off of him like a raging inferno.

"The whole reason I joined that project was because I needed to get close to Crell to get at Hyne," he continued. "I did some unsavory shit, but now . . . I kind of regret what I've done. You, Selphie, your daughter . . . people who've needlessly suffered the 'fruits' of the Elemental Project. And I never even got near Hyne, either. All that work never even got me a glimpse of that bitch."

"You knew Serra was my daughter?" Squall asked, and Nash laughed.

"Of course," He replied. "Chimera genes are distinctive if you're looking for them."

"So, you know about the blood of the Chimera," Squall said, and Nash nodded.

"Its obvious, isn't it?" the scientist stated. "Why you, Crell, Illarra . . . and me, we all look alike?" Nash stood up, stretching his arms, and looked to Squall again. "We're all products of Centra's Chimera project."

"What's your story?" Squall asked, and Nash snorted.

"You heard Illarra's part, and so you should know quite a bit, but the whole story of the Chimera?" Nash shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Trust me, kid, its very long. Very involved. Not something to talk about right now."

"What do you know?" Squall asked, feeling suddenly irked by Nash calling him a "kid." Nash walked past Squall, scooping up the bundle and resting it on his shoulder.

"Too much to tell you now," he answered. He stopped and looked back at the SeeD Commander. "Tell you what. We get out of this alive, and I'll tell you everything. And I mean, _everything._"

* * *

"And that concludes the briefing," Squall finished. "Once again, each of you will receive specific assignments regarding your particular areas of responsibility. We set sail and attack at dawn." He looked across the chamber, and then nodded. 

"Dismissed." The officers immediately stood and started conversing or filing out of the room to receive their assignments. Squall watched them leave silently.

_And good luck,_ he thought. _We're plunging headfirst into hell tomorrow. Long odds, powerful enemies, and success relying heavily on a small team of infiltrators._

"Nothing we haven't faced before," the SeeD Commander mused to himself as he walked off the stage. They _were_ SeeD, after all; impossible was a routine occurrence.

They were up against a psychotic, megalomaniac of a dictator, a massive army including highly skilled and superhuman special forces, and the Guardian of the End, Hyne, herself.

_Let's put an end to this,_ Squall thought. _Its time for war, but this war is going to be SeeD-style._ _And a SeeD-style war is one we always win._

* * *

-

* * *

Phew. That one took a while, but I'm quite satisfied with it. I had to tie up some loose ends and cover everyone's development before the big battle begins! And next chapter, the shit will hit the fan. HARD. 

**ALL YOUR SHOUT OUT ARE BELONG TO PEPTUCK!**

**Wolf of Light:** Griever, controlling Squall? Hm. I'm not saying anything!

**Solid Shark:** Oh, I don't know. I kind of like her, but I do think Illarra's time may almost be up...

And Nash...well, we'll see soon enough.

**Chris Ganale:** Well, comparatively speaking, Palpatine (according to Star Wars D20) is a level 16 Sith Lord/Level 4 Aristocrat (I think) and Yoda is a Level 20 Jedi. Since Revan can easily hit level 20 himself...yeah, Revan is a very powerful Jedi.

And yeah, there will be echoes of a certian major final battle next chapter...

**DBZ Fanfiction Queen**: Well, with all the massive hints I've been dropping all throughout this story... :P

Just to make things clear: Illarra does have Zanshin. Any Elemental who loses their eyes has Zanshin.

All questions will be answered in due time, I assure you. :P

**JadeAlmasy:** Yeah. Hurricanes. Ick. Hope you're alright.

**JehutyRunner: **To define this new level of badassness and hardcore, a new, stronger word must be made. Like, badasshardcore, or badcore.

Yes. Squall and Seifer will be **badcore**.

**Daniel Wesley Rydell:** Oh, certainly. Someone's getting their asses handed to them after Balamb.

Are we going to explode? I don't want to explode!

**OniRazz**: Hey, at least Squall still has his beard. :P Though he did get very badly pwned by Griever, yeah XD

**Kimahrigirl:** Yeah, sometimes I randomly think up ideas for how to present awkward scenes and run witht hem. Like this chapter; I couldn't figure out how I wanted the do both the briefing and all the other characters' side scenes, so I interwove them.

**Icedragon6171:** Yeah, I wondered how many people were going to catch that minor hint. And as for Crell's plan...you'll see.

**Platonic1**: Its a SUPER SECRET EVIL PLAN OF EVIL. :P

Seifer's dream regarding Serra took place much earlier in the story. And yes, that dream he had about the child with the wings was regarding Serra.

**Blue:** I love it when people make it easy for me to reply. Thanks!

**Tain Shairi:** Well, now you have a rough idea of how it happened. (Squall's conclusion ispretty much telling the truth...though Nash might know more...)

Nash, a time traveler? Nah. You expect me to spoil his story?

**Kolostramin Indincranin:** Rinoa isn't quite that powerful. Yeah, she's strong, but she doesn't have that level of range. She's a Sorceress, not artillery :P Not to mention that everyone who's worried about her power likely missed what happened to her right after she used her powers . . . .

**Kaiser, el baka grande:** Malachi is an ordinary Elemental soldier...he's just better than the rest by a great degree. He's not special beyond his exceptional skill. He doesn't have a GF infused in him.

And I've already given you your hint! no more for you until next chapter!

**Spikestrife: **Nash, the Chimera? Now that's a stretch. A big one.

But cliche is fun:P

**Orestes666:** Griever will mess with Squall. A whole lot, I assure you. :P

**Shootski: **You have mentioned I'm a genius before, I think. Still, continue mentioning it, it makes my giant ego even bigger! But seriously, thanks for the praise, man. I love you guys, every one of you!

That everyone? Spiffy.

Until next chapter!


	25. XXIV: Legion

_**Chapter 24: Legion**_

Dawn arrived upon the trio of arrayed Gardens, and it found Squall Leonhart ready for war. He stood on the bridge of Balamb Garden, staring out over the ocean toward the east, where the upcoming war awaited. What he hoped and prayed would be the final battle of this brief but intensely bloody war would soon be waged.

"This is it?" Laguna asked Squall as he stepped off the lift. The Commander nodded solemnly.

"We estimate we have about four hours of cruising time until we reach Balamb Island and sail around it, before hitting the enemy," he answered, and Laguna nodded to himself.

"I went ahead and had a chat with Kiros and Ward," he explained. "We've got a contingency plan in case anything goes wrong, though I hope we won't have to implement it."

Squall almost asked what the plan was, but then thought better of it. He didn't need to know right now, and he had to focus on the upcoming battle.

"Tactical," Squall called down toward the command area below. "Put all our data on the screen. Comms, contact Galbadia and Trabia Gardens, tell them to follow us. Nida . . . get us moving. Flank speed, along the route that's already been specified."

"Aye, Commander," Nida answered. He gently pushed the controls for the Garden forward, and the massive structure began to move out, the waters parting before Balamb garden as it drove against the ocean waters, like a mountain tearing itself free of the land that bound it. Behind the vast white monolith soon followed the bloody red shape Galbadia garden, and the smaller, snow-white specter of Trabia Garden, diving back into war once more. The combined vanguard of Garden, laden with well over twenty-five thousand men, struck out to sea at high speeds, launching into the oncoming teeth of yet another terrible battle.

"Send a message to all Garden forces," Squall stated calmly. "Tell them to go to full alert and prepare for combat. Its time to give Crell his fucking war."

* * *

The interior of Galbadia Garden was nearly complete chaos as twelve thousand SeeDs, Galbadian soldiers, and elite Dollet infantry scrambled to prepare for combat. The interior of the massive craft was filled with the din of low-key conversation, barked orders by officers, the clicking and cocking of rifles and machineguns being cleaned, checked, and loaded, and the scraping of soldiers applying last-minute sharpenings to their swords, bayonets, and other varied weapons. In the middle of it all, striding through the swirling morass of soldiers and SeeDs, was Seifer Almasy, fully armed and armored, his confident stride and wide grin dispelling any anxiety within the men around him as he inspected the troops. 

"Gear up, people!" Seifer shouted over the intercom, through a microphone attached to his ear. "ETA to Balamb Island and the biggest ass-kicking of the century is less than four hours! Move, move!" He paused, glancing down at a datapad in his hand as he moved past a squad of Galbadian technicians loading ordnance into one of their war robots. Data, as the name implied, ran across the screen of the datapad as soldiers and officers sent new information and updates to the command center upstairs. Seifer saw some places needing reinforcements, especially along the upper floors, and reached up to his ear.

_"Seventeenth Tactical Company, move to the second level and reinforce garrisons along Sectors Two through Five, we've got holes up there."_ Seifer frowned as Randolph's voice cut him off, from him giving the exact same order. He glanced at the pad again, and was about to speak once more, when Randolph cut in again. "_Fourth Mechanized, get your units to the west Dorms complex, Area B. Stand by for further orders."_

"Eh, screw it," Seifer muttered. That last one was a better decision than he would have made. Clearly the General was better at reallocating resources than Seifer. Let him make the tactical decisions. Seifer would take command at the front line and show these Estharian shits just what he was capable of. There was a reason why Crell had wanted him executed . . . .

Seifer's hands closed around Hyperion's handle, and he grinned. The reforged gunblade, resting within the sheath at his left waist, was something he was eager to take back onto the field, especially after Squall had broken it three years ago.

Then, Seifer moved his hand across to his right waist, where his saber was sheathed. He'd never given the blade a name, figuring that until he had atoned, he wasn't worthy enough to name his weapons. The nameless sword had done well, he knew, and rather than part with them, he had opted to carry both blades into combat. He knew how to fight with two swords at once, but he had just never bothered, preferring one weapon. But now, with two blades, both equally important to him . . . Seifer figured it was appropriate he carry both blades into battle.

Aside from the two blades, Seifer also wore combat armor beneath his coat, over his simple trousers and a black shirt, and was also fitted with a radio and a small arsenal of grenades and explosives. He made certain that everyone else was outfitted with at least as much firepower; they were going to need the explosives in this battle.

He passed down the corridor, walking into the central courtyard at the heart of Galbadia Garden, which was now acting as the forward tactical command center for the combined armies. Officers, technicians, and SeeDs were all in attendance, milling about, exchanging data, relaying orders, or setting up gear. heavily armored barricades had been set up along the corridors leading into this chamber; if the Estharians managed to fight their way past the external courtyards and into the building itself, they'd have to battle for every inch. Seifer had made it clear that he wanted the halls to be choked with the bodies of the enemy if they got into the central courtyard.

Seifer scanned the courtyard, and then spotted who he was looking for, toward the back, separated from most of the other chaos: four SeeDs, two Galbadian, two Balamb, and one small, black-haired girl clad in a SeeD's combat gear, though not armed with any weapons. Seifer moved over to the group, where the four SeeDs were discussing something while preparing their weapons and gear, though keeping close to Serra. He recognized the apparent leader of the group, one he'd chosen after seeingreports of his action at Trabia. This Lex guy definitely was a good hand with a katana. He turned his attention back to Serra, whowas looking around the area, somewhat bewildered by the hustle and bustle of a Garden preparing for war. As soon as she saw Seifer, though, Serra seemed to relax, glad to see someone familiar.

"How are you holding up?" Seifer asked her. She glanced to the SeeDs beside her, the bodyguard compliment Seifer had chosen, and then back to him.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly. "The men you wanted to keep me safe are very nice to me."

"Well, that's good to hear," Seifer replied with a chuckle. "But what about you? Are you ready for this? Its not going to be a walk in the park."

"I've had to defend myself before," Serra explained. "But, that was mostly just Phoenix of Diablos protecting me. I don't really have much control over them . . . ."

"Didn't Rinoa show you how to control your powers?" Seifer asked, and Serra nodded, looking down at the floor.

"What she told me . . . it didn't work for me, very much," she answered. "The way she used her magic, her Sorceress powers . . . they're different from mine. I'm not sure why. Maybe its because her powers came from Hyne directly, and she's not an Elemental, but the way she casts spells and uses energy isn't like how I do it."

Seifer listened for a moment, and then nodded.

"Are you sure Phoenix and Diablos will keep you safe?" he asked, and she nodded immediately.

"Whenever I've been threatened, they rushed to protect me," she explained. "But like I said, I'm not good at controlling them. They might react too violently if there's a lot of people around . . . ."

"How do they defend you?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"They manifest energy to attack whatever it is that's threatening me," she said. "That's pretty much the extent to which they defend me. It doesn't sound like much, but when I'm in danger, they can cause a lot of damage . . . ."

"Hopefully that'll all be at the enemy," Seifer said with a grin. "Just stay in here, and with your bodyguards. they'll keep you safe."

"I know," Serra replied with a nod. "Though I'm not sure I'll need them. the strategy Squall came up with seems like it'll work." When Seifer blinked in surprise, she nodded. "I went over the battle plan and compared it to some military history books and the SeeD Combat Manual. From what I can tell, it looks like it will work."

"You read through those?" Seifer asked, and she nodded again.

"When I knew we were going into battle they were the first things I read," she explained. "I figured I needed to learn the basics about what we would be going through."

"You understand what's going to happen, then?" Seifer asked, and she nodded firmly.

"I'm not afraid. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we win."

* * *

"Whoo! This thing is packing so much new firepower! Its just begging to be used!" Irvine chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. The sharpshooter had managed to commandeer one of the communications terminals on the third floor of Galbadia Garden, and was using it to communicate with Selphie as she flew the Ragnarok, a fair distance behind the trio of Gardens. 

"Glad to hear you approve of the upgrades," Irvine added, and on the other end of the communication, Selphie nodded. She was seated in the pilot's chair of the Ragnarok, a trio of SeeD crewmen in the other chairs surrounding her. She was clad in an outfit Squall had designed for SeeD pilots, consisting of a furred brown jacket, black shirt, and black pants, what Selphie had dubbed a "bomber's jacket." A pair of pilot's goggles rested on her forehead.

"I can't wait to test it out!" she said with that diabolically adorable smile. The smile faded slightly as she looked again at Irvine. "But what about you?" she added. "Are you okay?"

"I've got twelve thousand of Dollet, Galbadia, and SeeD's finest, in my own Garden," Irvine replied. "I'll do just perfectly. Don't forget: best gunslinger in Garden."

"But you'll be right in the middle of it," Selphie murmured. "And without me to back you up . . . ."

"Relax," Irvine assured her. "I took down Adel. These scrubs are nothing to me."

"If you're sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure," he stated. "Don't worry about me. Just keep those Estharian aircraft off our backs, okay? We'll do the rest."

"You got it!"

* * *

Squall stood on the bridge, watching the waves flash past, his image a disconcerting one to those who didn't know he could see better than they ever would. The trio of Gardens plowed through the ocean, unswerving in their unstoppable intent to locate and destroy the leadership of the Estharian force bent on conquering the nations they were to protect. They were less than an hour from the enemy's base of operations, Balamb Harbor, and had started the northerly drift to swing around the islands and hit their foes from behind. 

Below, he could hear the status reports from the command deck, drifting up to his ears. Radio transmissions were flying back and forth, and status reports were coming in from the Galbadian and Dollet fleets that had drawn out the Estharian fleet. They had engaged the enemy at extreme range, with cruise missiles and magnetic accelerator cannon rounds being exchanged. So far the battle between the naval forces was at a stalemate; Esthar's long-range cannons couldn't hit the Galbadian and Dollet fleets at their extreme ranges, but the missiles from the two allied fleets couldn't get past the pulse laser phalanxes of the Estharian ships, either. Neither side had launched aircraft at the other yet, not wanting to risk fighter combat until they had gotten closer. fortunately, the Galbadian and Dollet fleets were doing a good job keeping their distance and leading the Estharians on a merry chase across the seas.

Still, the battle to the south was only a diversion. They simply had to keep the fleet busy and let Garden take out Crell.

"Reports have come in," spoke Quistis, who rode the elevator up to the top of the command pylon. "All three of our Gardens are ready for battle."

"Good," Squall answered quietly. "We're going to engage the enemy soon. Tell everyone to stand by ."

"Right," she replied, and then looked over the SeeD Commander. he was equipped for battle, she could see. He was clad in a simple white shirt, ceramic torso body armor, with a combat vest over the top of the armor, black combat fatigues fitted with multiple bandoleers of concussive force shells, and black combat boots. A simple radio and headset were clipped to his ear . . . but what surprised Quistis the most was what Squall wore on his waist. Instead of simply a single gunblade in its sheath, he wore both Lionheart and the Revolver, the two swords belted to his left hip, one atop the other, samurai-style. He wore several combat knives, one strapped to each forearm, a pair on his belt opposite his gunblades, and one on his left shoulder. Fragmentation, incendiary, and flashbang grenades were attached to his belt as well. The SeeD was fully outfitted and armed for his role in the upcoming battle.

Squall turned to Quistis, looking at her with his bandaged face.

"Quistis, you have command up here," he stated coolly. "I'm heading down to get ready for my part."

"Understood," she replied as he walked past and stepped on the elevator. She paused, and looked back to the SeeD Commander. "Take care of yourself, Squall."

"You too," he answered. "And try not to ram this thing up the enemy's ass. We need Crell alive to pull this off." She smiled at Squall's attempt at a joke, and then he descended tot he command floor.

Two minutes later Squall was walking the halls of Balamb Garden. In a scene repeating what was happening on the other two Gardens, soldiers, SeeDs, and cadets were rushing about frantically, finishing the last preparations for war. He strode among his soldiers, his mere presence raising the spirits of the troops all around him. Hundreds of times, soldiers and SeeDs would sop in their tracks to salute the Commander, all of them knowing what his mission involved and the incredible degree of danger he was about to put himself into.

"Yo, Squall!" Zell called, and the SeeD turned, to spot the brawler moving through the crowd, geared up for war as well. Zell seemed oddly . . . happy, even more so than usual. Zell gave Squall a thumbs-up as he got close.

"Good to go, man!" he declared. "Just need a good old-fashioned Squall Inspirational Speech and we'll be ready to rock!"

"I'll save that for when we encounter the enemy," Squall replied. He paused for a second, and then looked over Zell. The brawler blinked for a moment, not sure what was going on, when Squall smiled slightly.

"Who was she?" he asked. It took Zell two seconds to catch Squall's meaning, and then he went beet red. he opened his mouth, not sure what to say. Squall, taking advantage of the situation, continued. "At least, I'm hoping it was a she." Zell's eyes widened, and then a moment later he burst out laughing.

"N-no, it was a she, man," he replied, laughing hard. "But, uhh, you'd be surprised who it was."

"Who?" Squall asked. Zell hesitated, and then the SeeD Commander shook his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't really matter much." Squall nodded to Zell. "You'd better get into position. We've got less than an hour before we engage."

"Sure thing, man!" Zell replied. The brawler turned and hurried to the front gate, where he'd be participating in the initial charge that Squall would lead into Crell's fortress. Of course, that charge was simply cover to allow Squall himself to get inside the ship, where he could wreak further havoc on the enemy.

The SeeD Commander moved elsewhere, walking through the Garden, past hundreds of SeeDs and soldiers as they continued their tasks. He passed through the corridors that SeeDs were prepping for combat, setting up barricades and defensive emplacements. he moved through the Quad, which SeeDs were hastily reinforcing and prepping for combat. The battle with Galbadia three years ago had taught them than the Quad was very vulnerable and difficult to protect against a concerted attack, and Squall had taken pains to ensure that the Quad would be easily sealed off and defensible if the troops protecting it were overwhelmed. Secondary defensive positions, resupply points, and barricades were being prepared all throughout Balamb Garden in preparations for the enemy assault. Similar preparations were underway in the other Gardens.

If Esthar invaded any of the Gardens, Squall had vowed, their corpses would be stacked like firewood along the corridors.

Squall finished his inspection of Garden's defenses as the trio of warships rounded the eastern edge of Balamb Island, and started south. Squall stood at the front gate of Balamb Garden with his troops as Balamb garden passed around the cliffs at the eastern edge of the island, and started curving back west, cutting through the ocean waters at full speed. He stared resolutely at the waves before him, and the rolling landscape flashing past. To his left, he spotted Galbadia Garden flying slightly further ahead, the tip of the red Garden coming into view at the edge of his vision. Trabia Garden was waiting behind them, ready to provide fire support.

Then, they rounded the island, and came into view of the enemy.

Six massive Estharian Flying Fortresses, gigantic gunmetal-gray domes atop massive antigravity rings, were waiting for them, five of them in a semi-circle shape around a central Fortress outfitted with additional command facilities and communications gear. That one was clearly Crell's command ship.

"Full speed ahead!" Squall ordered into his microphone. "Close at flank speed!" The trio of Gardens accelerated forward noticeably, hurling themselves across the ocean waves at their enemies. Squall pressed a finger to his microphone, and stepped forward, ahead of the line of Seeds defending the entrance, and turned around to face his troops, at the same time broadcasting a fleet-wide transmission to all his troops and pilots.

"Attention, everyone," He started. "This is Commander Leonhart. We're preparing to engage the enemy." he paused, and took a breath. "This is it people. Everything we've been fighting for in this war. All the people that have died in this conflict gave their lives for this battle. this is where we're going to put an end to Crell's insane plan to conquer the world. _Our world."_

As he spoke, the enemy Fortresses became larger, the Gardens speeding up, putting even more power, drawing closer to the enemy.

"All our friends, families, countrymen, and comrades are depending on us to put an end to this battle. Keep your eyes, minds, and weapons on the battle at hand. If you find your thoughts straying, take them only to your fellow soldiers and families, and know that if we lose here, its over for everyone."

The enemy loomed closer, the Fortresses beginning to accelerate to engage the advancing Gardens, pushing through the waves toward their targets as surely and unswervingly as the Gardens closed with them.

"We have to win here today! Hold your positions! Stay together! Legion! We will hold our ground, and not give the enemy an inch without stacking their bodies higher than we can see! This day, this battle, this is where we put an end to this war! We're going to face our enemy, and drive that lunatic and his army of bio-engineered freaks _back to the hellhole they came from!_"

Squall ended his speech by drawing and thrusting Lionheart into the air, the glowing blade catching and reflecting the light of the mid-morning sun, a shining blue brand that sent a cheer rippling through his soldiers, a reverberating declaration of their intent to hold position that echoed from Galbadia Garden and to Trabia Garden, bouncing off and growing ever stronger as nearly thirty thousand assembled troops loosed their war cries. The sound echoed off the enemy Fortresses as they closed in, telling the sixty thousand Estharians that waited for them that garden was wholly dedicated to this battle.

The enemy swept in, accelerating ever faster, and Galbadia Garden surged forward, ready to intercept.

Squall pressed his finger to his ear once more.

"All personnel, this is it! Prepare to repel boarders and take the fight back to the enemy!"

* * *

"Damn straight, Squall," Seifer muttered with a grin as he stood atop Galbadia Garden. Apparently, Headmaster Martine had liked the pedestal that Seifer had installed three years ago when he took over, as the thing was still there at the top of the structure, waiting for someone sufficiently egotistical or inspiring to issue commands from. 

_You won't get someone more fitting for that job than me,_ Seifer thought as his Garden moved ahead, prepared to clash with the enemy and buy Balamb Garden the cover it needed.

"Guns," he ordered into his microphone. "See that Fortress at the front, the one that's all ambitious and shit?"

"_Yes sir?"_ came the answer.

"Disabuse those assholes of the notion."

A second later, on one of the upper levels of Galbadia Garden, directly on its bow, several massive panels slid open, revealing a dozen large tubes the height of a man, each one loaded with a Galbadian Anvil-III anti-ship missile.

Galbadia Garden shuddered, and Seifer winced as the thundering, throaty, roaring eruptions of missile propellant ignited, and his coat went flying wildly as twelve huge naval cruise missiles erupted from the bow of Galbadia Garden, directly over his position, and lanced toward the lead Flying Fortress.

The enemy pilot attempted to get his ship out of the way, but the massive dome of the fortress was simply begging to be hit, and all twelve missiles answered that request. The first projectile slammed into the dome just port of the warship's bow, blasting a forty-foot wide crater in the side of the ship's armored hull, a roiling yellow-white fireball of raging destruction that tore through multiple decks and sent rippling shockwaves through the ship. This was repeated eleven times as the remainder of the missiles tore into the massive craft, ripping through solid metal decks and consuming hundreds of men and tremendous portions of arms and equipment. The explosions tore deeply into the ship, leaving a gaping, ripped hole in the front of the Fortress. The detonations shoved the warship backward and to the side, sending it reeling, leaving it helpless before Seifer's next command.

"Shove those bitches out of our way."

* * *

Rinoa stood at the front gate of Trabia Garden, alongside a force of about three hundred Trabian and Balamb SeeDs, and watched as Galbadia Garden accelerated even faster than it had been going, and rammed the wounded, reeling Estharian Fortress head on. She could hear the resounding clash of metal on metal as Galbadia Garden collided hard, and watched in awe as the stalled, battered Fortress was hurled back and to the side, out of Balamb Garden's path and almost onto its side, before the antigravity ring stabilized it. Balamb Garden surged forward, past Galbadia Garden, as the crimson warship turned to the port, facing one of the undamaged enemy Fortresses and surging toward it at full speed. 

The two Fortresses to the starboard of the battered fortress accelerated toward Balamb Garden, intent on stopping it dead in its tracks. Rinoa scowled, and concentrated.

"Hoo shit," one of the SeeDs, a survivor of the battle at Trabia, remarked as he saw what she was preparing to do. He was dead on the money when Rinoa's mind plunged through the metal and ceramic plating of the enemy Fortress, diving into the heart of the ship and its drive system.

Five seconds later, fire blossomed from the interior of the enemy Fortress as Rinoa detonated the primary drive system, transforming the Estharian ship into a massive roiling expansion of raging fire and flying shrapnel and bodies.

The Fortress behind the exploding one swerved to the side as Rinoa dropped to her knees, clutching her chest as pain cut through her body.

_No, not again! just like what happened at Trabia . . . I'm using too much power . . . ._

Rinoa clenched her teeth and looked up at the second Fortress as it swerved past the burning wreckage, clearly shocked by the extent of the devastation its ally had been struck with. Rinoa watched it for a moment, and then shakily stood to her feet, helped by several SeeDs. She waited for it to move, and when it finally did, drifting toward Balamb Garden and starting to move into its path to cut it off from attacking Crell's command Fortress, she thrust her mind into the heart of the machine again, intent on stopping it regardless of the pain that it would cost her.

This time, as the enemy Fortress detonated in another roiling ball of fire, Rinoa let out a scream of agony and collapsed backward, her legs giving out as pain knifed up her spine and through her heart and lungs. She was caught by several shocked and amazed SeeDs.

"Get her to the infirmary!" one of the SeeD officers ordered, and the soldiers that had caught her lifted her up and started carrying Rinoa quickly through the lines. They got halfway through the SeeDs assembled at the gate when Rinoa stirred, reaching up and grabbing the SeeDs' arms.

"Let me . . . go," she whispered, and the four soldiers carrying her paused, before reluctantly stopping and lowering her to her feet. The Sorceress stood shakily, reaching up to her chest and touching her heart, shocked by what had just happened.

_Hyne's power . . . I'm using too much of it. More power than a mortal body can handle . . . ._

Still, the pain she felt was worth it, Rinoa knew, when she saw Balamb Garden flying forward, heedless of any enemy that had been closing in moments before, driving straight toward their enemy without slowing. She had bought Squall the opening he needed to drive his dagger straight into the heart of his enemy.

* * *

"Stand ready!" Squall ordered as the enemy loomed ahead. The wreckage of the destroyed fortresses was still pinging off the hull of Balamb Garden as it charged relentlessly forward, diving without fear toward Crell's command ship. 

Panels along the Estharian Fortress slid upward, revealing a half dozen troop bays where thousands of white and black-clad Estharian soldiers stood, ready to charge into the fray and meet Balamb Garden head on. The front entrance of the Fortress, where the soldiers boarded the ship, opened outward like a blossoming flower, showing a legion of black and blue-armored cyborg infantry ready to meet Garden's assault.

"Oh, yeah, time for some payback, assholes!" Zell muttered beside Squall, and the SeeD Commander nodded.

"Stand ready!" Squall ordered again. "Prepare shields!"

Magic played over the thousand SeeDs assembled at the front gate and the hallways beyond. The warriors of Balamb Garden readied their weapons, steeling their jaws and clenching their weapon tightly. The enemy Fortress closed in, rising up above, looming ever more closely, towering directly over them, the thousands of men aboard tensing in preparation for the assault. SeeDs and soldiers alike held their breath as the enemy became more and more clearly, the two ships preparing to connect-

A tremendous crash flew throughout both warships as they collided, front entrances of both ships nearly perfectly meeting.

"Hooks! Ramps! Fire!"

At Squall's order, several ports opened along the front of Balamb Garden, and grappling hooks shot forward, burying into the armored hull of the Fortress, securing the two ships' hold, and ramps extended from Balamb Garden, slamming down onto the deck of the Estharian Fortress.

"_CHARGE!"_

The thousand SeeDs rushed forward, as fast as their junctions could carry them, thundering a war cries as they surged ahead. Yet, as fast as the Garden warriors rushed forward, they could not match the speed by which Squall Leonhart dashed ahead, Lionheart shining like a fiery swath of divine punishment as he leapt over the ramp and landed right in front of the charging Estharian cyborgs. A hundred black-armored warriors greeted him, with a thousand more of their fellow cybernetic infantry and thousands more Estharian regulars right behind them.

Lionheart ripped forward, and the first cyborg to stand before Squall fell in two as the SeeD Commander bore in. In an instant, he chopped across, severing another foe's head, dropped low beneath an axe chop, and whipped around, Lionheart flying out wide and flashing through two more foes, and then rolled around the next opponent in line, blade stabbing up into a foe's heart and then flashing back over his shoulder and chopping through the head of the cyborg he had spun around.

Three seconds later, a thousand SeeDs stormed over the ramp, to find Squall in the midst of two dozen corpses and driving deeper, whirling and stabbing, slashing and chopping. Lightning shot from his hands, curling through the enemy ranks, throwing cyborgs to their feet as he spun and struck, slicing through a squad of the enemy in a single smooth, brutal motion of cutting blue light. His blade slashed through every possible opening, and parried every stroke before it even began. Squall ducked, whirled, dove, and sprang aside as his foes struck, already out of the line of attack and cutting down another foe before the Estharians could start swinging. Zanshin told him everything he needed to know, and the overwhelming strength and unimaginable speed that Griever granted the SeeD sent him ripping through the enemy ranks, fountains of blood and flying body parts following him as he cut through, a whirling dervish of unstoppable death, untouchable by even his foes' own gushing blood.

This unyielding foe had single-handedly thrown the Estharians into chaos, so that when Zell Dincht, leading a thousand screaming SeeDs, crashed into the Estharian lines, there was no sense of order among the enemy ranks. Every SeeD blade found blood and enemy vitals in the first second after the wave of Garden warriors plowed into the Estharian army. A tidal wave of magic buried two hundred more of the enemy in the next second, and Zell Dincht, his army behind him, burst through the maelstrom of death and energy and crushed an enemy head with a flying kick.

As the foe hit the ground an instant before Zell, the brawler readied his fists, sliding into a defensive stance as another cyborg chopped in with its shotaxe. His fingers clamped around the shaft of the axe, and Zell whirled, flipping the cyborg over and slamming it into the ground, before stomping its chest in. He spun around, facing another foe, stepping forward into a powerful side-kick that blasted through the cyborg's parrying shotaxe and launched the Estharian soldier thirty feet back, bowling over a dozen of its comrades. An axe cut in at Zell's right, and that arm shot forward, wrapping around the haft of the weapon while Zell's left crossed over and impacted solidly with the soldier's chest, crumpling its armor, bones, and mechanical parts. It simply flopped to the ground, dead instantly. The axe Zell caught whipped forward in an eye-blink, burying into the chest of the next cyborg, and the brawler leapt over the falling Estharian, knee rising up and catching the soldier behind it in the chin. Behind him, a SeeD blinked, surprised, for he had never seen anyone, even Zell, _decapitate a foe with their kneecap._ But the fact that the Estharian's head went flipping end over end across the battlefield at the end of Zell's leg proved this fact, even as the brawler landed amidst a half-dozen of the enemy. He charged in, fists flailing and legs pumping, ducking and weaving. His elbow crunched into an enemy's gut, and his fist bent a shotaxe back over itself while his leg blasted another foe's face to mush. The six soldiers each fell hard to the ground, pulverized by Zell's overwhelming strength, skill, and sheer ferocity.

All around the brawler, the thousand SeeDs charged in, plowing the enemy under their ranks, assaulting the enemy with a ferocity unprecedented. Their rage was fueled by intense SeeD training that Squall himself had developed, and they were inspired to shocking acts of merciless savagery simply by watching Zell tear into the enemy, punching and beating and slamming his way through every foe with reckless abandon. Heads flew, fallen enemy soldiers were hacked and beaten, and any foe that stood before the SeeD onslaught was totally _annihilated._ However, even as inspiring as Zell's assault was, it paled before the maelstrom of death that was Squall Leonhart.

An axe doveat him, but he was already stepping aside, left hand shooting up and catching the axe and subtly redirecting it at another foe while Lionheart was slipping into the ribs of a third opponent. The soldier about to be struck by his comrade's axe hopped back, but moved directly into Squall's blade as it arced across, while the SeeD kicked the first soldier in the stomach, doubling him over and making him an easy target as the SeeD cut past, drawing a knife for the instant needed to expertly pierce his temple and move on. Four more of the enemy closed in, and Squall shot between them, not stopping until he was past them, his gunblade arcing twice, slicing the arm from one victim and severing another's head. He stabbed out behind him as he stopped, cutting out the lungs of a third soldier, and then whirled, blade arcing across, slicing both the survivors in half before dropping low to the ground and skittering to the side. An axe fell where he had been standing an instant before, and following the axe was the top half of the soldier as Squall moved past the attacking cyborg, chopping down another foe, spinning around wildly and cleaving through another enemy. Lightning coursed across his arms and struck down a cluster of the enemy as he charged into a full platoon of cyborgs, blade hacking down the first pair. Squall suddenly reversed direction, flipping back over another foe and slicing through his head in mid-air. The Estharian platoon charged after the SeeD-

-and erupted into a gigantic fireball as the incendiary grenade Squall had dropped in their midst went up. even as the incinerated soldiers were hitting the ground, Squall shot through the flames, unscathed, and cut through another pair without slowing, then spun around, loosing another torrent of lightning that felled a dozen and more of the enemy. More Estharians surged toward him, and their corpses dropped to the ground, blood splashing across their comrades and along the floor beneath them, but none of it touching Squall as he methodically advanced, Lionheart chopping and cutting, striking and flashing, in a tireless, unstoppable tide of savage butchery and slaughter. Squall Leonhart's dance was nothing a human could hope to put an end to, and he proved this by paving a trail of torn, bisected corpses with each step deeper into the fortress. With every cut of Lionheart, another life vanished. With every step, another man died. With every foot he gained, more blood stained the floor.

With every man that fell screaming to the floor, Griever smiled.

With every man that died, Hades sang.

And with every bit of beautiful, horrible destruction Squall Leonhart wrought, Hyne reveled.

Squall danced, the three dark Guardians laughed, and the battle raged on inexorably.

* * *

As the Estharian army had prepared to invade at the front gate of Balamb Garden, so to had they prepared to invade the upper levels. Muster bays higher up along the Estharian Flying Fortresses opened up, revealing legions of ready assault troops, who rapidly fired grappling lines and rode light weight hovering jetpacks strapped to their backs. Cyborg soldiers leapt from the open bays across the distance between the two warships, planted arm-mounted pitons and claws into the walls and kicking in classroom and training area windows. They dropped inside the Garden, and were met instantly by SeeD counter attacks, magic and bullets cutting down the first invaders before they even touched down. The combined Estharian force, however, swarmed into the classrooms, batting SeeD forces in close combat. The SeeD troops hammered the enemy, their junctions and magic more than giving them the edge they needed to outfight the first Estharian waves. 

Along Balamb Garden's bow, however, in the classroom directly facing the Flying Fortress, the Estharian troops encountered a foe they weren't expecting. While a contingent of SeeD defenders was present in the room, they were not expecting to face a foe who wielding the infernos of hell as if they were extensions of his own body.

The first platoon of cyborgs touched down, and a wall of fire burst into existence beneath them, Nash stared at the immolated cyborgs as they were reduced to charred bone and molten electronics, a slight grin on his face. More of the enemy rushed into the chamber, diving around or through the wall of scorching fire, and the scientist wreathed himself in flame, the long cloth bundle he had been carrying the previous day strapped to his back and untouched by the blaze surrounding him. Those soldiers who charged the scientist were caught in the fiery aura and incinerated.

More of the enemy came on, and the SeeDs opened fire, streams of magic and sheets of bullets cutting down the attacking enemy. Nash walked forward calmly, uncrossing his arms.

Two concentrations of the enemy came at him, and he pointed his arms at the groups, loosed torrents of fire that poured over the unfortunate Estharian troops. A cyborg dove through the fires at Nash, and he swept a hand forward, a blaze of crimson transforming the man's torso to ash and sending his blackened limbs and head flying past the scientist. Another foe closed in from the right, and a gout of flame shot through him to burn down two of his comrades behind him. Another wave of the enemy poured in as Nash strode forward, and he swept both hand forward, a semicircle of fire crashing over them like a tidal wave from hell.

Nash strode past the charred bodies and floating ash, tot he shattered window of the classroom, and looked out at the Fortress before him, before grinning. The Estharians were no longer attacking his position, and for good reason. Now, to take the fight to his enemies.

"Cover this position!" he shouted to the SeeDs behind him as they finished mopping up the survivors, and they nodded. Nash then shot forward, leaping out into the air between the two warships, his inhuman Elemental strength dropping him squarely into one of the launch bays, where hundreds of Estharians were waiting, axes drawn and rifles leveled.

"You boys best get out of my way," he stated quietly. When the enemy soldiers showed no sign of backing down, Nash set his body ablaze, grinning.

"Fine then!" he shouted, clenching his fists. A forty-foot wide corona of flame shot around him for an instant, reducing those closest to the scientist to ash. "You want to get between me and Hyne? You can burn here, and then burn _in hell!"_

* * *

The two undamaged Flying Fortresses closed with Galbadia Garden, which, at Seifer's order, had turned and gleefully hurled itself directly at the two Estharian warships. The soldiers on the enemy ships apparently weren't too happy with how Galbadia Garden had thrown aside their comrades moments before, and hundreds of the enemy opened fire as the three ships closed. Plasma and bullets lanced out from dozens of positions, striking wildly across the exterior of Galbadia Garden, doing little damage. Seifer nodded as he understood what the enemy was doing: they were dropping suppressive fire for an inevitable enemy charge. 

"Well, that's just fine," Seifer mused with a grin. He touched his radio as the Garden and the Fortresses drew closer, the Estharian ships sailing side by side.

"All right, people!" Seifer called. "Stand by to repel boarders! They want us to rush out there and meet them head-on. We're not stupid enough to play their game." Indeed, Seifer was right; the Estharian army was already assembling at the main entry ramps of their fortresses and gathering in the assault and landing bays to pour out onto Galbadia Garden. Doubtless they hoped to crush the Galbadian, Dollet and SeeD forces on the Garden under their superior numbers.

Of course, Seifer had no intention of sending his army out. Tough as they were, and capable melee combatants, his force was vastly made up of normal infantry and unjunctioned Galbadia Garden SeeDs. Against Estharian cyborgs and Elementals, his troops were not a decent match in close-quarters battle.

Of course, that was why Seifer had structured his defenses to take advantage of the overwhelming amount of firepower his troops could bring to bear on the enemy.

Assault ramps slammed down onto the deck of Galbadia Garden, and grappling lines shot across, firmly connecting the two Fortresses to Galbadia Garden's bow. A tidal wave of thundering boots resounded as the Estharian army rushed out from the gates, covering fire scything before them to keep the SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet forces from rushing out to meet them. Thousands of silver and black armored Estharians charged across the open ground outside the central structure of Galbadia Garden. The leading line of the enemy held their off-hands forward, and shimmering discs of protective force fields flashed into existence.

Exactly how Seifer wanted it to be.

He touched his microphone, grinning as he saw his foes walking right into the teeth of his army.

"Open fire."

At that command, two thousand SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet soldiers, as many as could be gathered along the bow of the Garden, pointed rifles out the front windows, doors, and dozens of concealed firing ports. Three hundred demolitions specialists leveled grenade and rocket launchers, and high up along the Garden, snipers from the three armies shouldered their weapons. Then, death fell upon the charging lines of Estharian soldiers, who rushed across the open ground heedless of their peril.

Bullets tore into the front line of cyborgs and soldiers, the first wave of rounds bouncing off the protective energy shields for the most part. Many rounds, however, found their marks, striking legs, arms, and shoulders, spinning the enemy around or dropping them to the dirt. The SeeDs and soldiers continued their fire, bullets tearing into the less-protected soldiers behind the leading edge, dropping the enemy with precise automatic gunfire. Heavy sniper rounds tore the enemy in half, blasting them to flying, bloody chunks. Heavy machineguns roared, their massive rounds and tremendous gunfire ripping through Estharian armor like tissue paper. Rockets and grenades detonated in the midst of the enemy, blasting gaping holes in the tide of Estharian aggressors. The entire front end of Galbadia Garden's main structure became a blazing flash of light, as tracer rounds, grenades, and rockets shot out amid a sea of white muzzle flashes. The front of the Garden seemed to be on fire, so intense was the combined fire of the SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet force.

Within the first thirty seconds, over two thousand Estharians were dead, yet the enemy charged on, right into the teeth of the combined force heedlessly, the silver and black tide unyielding even before the sickening carnage. Cyborgs and Estharian regulars bulled through the merciless barrage of bullets and rockets, closing in with the forces defending the main entrances into Galbadia Garden.

Irvine Kinneas was standing at the main entrance of Galbadia Garden, with over a thousand of his comrades behind him, SeeD and soldier alike. The entire entrance was lined with hundreds of men, some kneeling, others standing shoulder to shoulder, firing their rifles in staggered bursts to conserve ammunition and to ensure that the entire force wasn't reloading at once. Behind the firing soldiers were hundreds more men, working quickly to reload spent rifles and cycling freshly loaded weapons to the front, ensuring that the troops at the front gate almost always had a loaded weapon they were shooting at the enemy. The sharpshooter was armed with his PGS-1 sniper rifle at first, picking off the enemy with utmost precision the instant the order to fire had come. He had reloaded the twelve-round rifle twice before the enemy had drawn closer to the gate, and slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder, calmly drawing his Valiant multipurpose rifle.

"Prepare shotguns and grenades!" he ordered his troops. At once, a hundred soldiers and SeeDs at the front responded, lowering their rifles and drawing shotguns. Many more behind them primed grenades. The lines of men behind them maintained rifle fire as the Estharians closed in, mincing the enemy with no mercy or respite. Enemy soldiers tripped over their comrades as they charged, and blood flew as hundreds of the swarming enemy fell, drawing closer and closer to the gate.

"Grenades out!" Irvine ordered, and the soldiers readying grenades hurled the explosives forward, a mixture of incendiary and fragmentation grenades landing amidst the enemy as they closed to within forty feet. Fireballs and exploding blasts of shrapnel tore into the enemy, blasting ragged holes in the tide. More Estharians bulled through the devastated army, closing in, and then the shotguns rang out. Heavy buckshot tore into the enemy, ripping through the Estharian soldiers and blasting them backward. Irvine fired as well, his Valiant's loaded shotgun shells gutting the enemy as he pumped round after round into the tide.

More grenades flew out, and rifle fire continued to pour from the entrance, shotgun blasts tearing apart any foe that neared the entrance. hundreds of dead and dying piled up in a wide semi-circle around Galbadia Garden's main entrance, the swarming Estharian soldiers falling by the dozens. They scrambled over their fallen comrades and dropped dead to the dirt from dozens of bullet wounds. Cyborgs rushed through the devastation, bullets bouncing off their shields and armor, only to finally succumb at the ends of gore-splattered shotguns. The deafening roar of gunfire and explosions, the screams of dying enemy soldiers, and the barked shouts of the troops nestled within the archway filled Irvine's ears as he fired, killing and maiming and slaughtering the enemy in a hellish tide of fiery death.

The enemy came on heedlessly, dying and falling, many mere feet away from the SeeDs and soldiers that kept pumping bullets and grenades and buckshot into the Estharians. The Garden forces kept killing the enemy at a horrific rate, with hardly any losses of their own, but Irvine knew that soon enough the Estharians' momentum would carry the enemy into his front lines, and many more of his people would die.

After a moment, he touched his ear, firing the Valiant one-handed as he barked a barely audible order over the microphone.

"They're storming into the archway!"

Seifer, up above nodded silently, and tapped his own microphone.

"First layer: detonate."

Earlier that day, Seifer had his army bury several layers of mines into the ground outside Galbadia Garden.

With thousands of swarming Estharians right outside his gates and doors, the mines could not have had a better opportunity to inflict massive casualties to the enemy.

Hundreds of mines exploded, launching storms and whirlwinds of shrapnel into the air, ripping through thousands of Estharian soldiers in an instant. Back smoke, blood, and boy parts fountained into the sky, hurled dozens of feet into the air as the heart of the Estharian army was shredded. The soldiers that were too close to the gates and entrances to be hit by the mines rushed on, into the teeth of the combined armies, and were rapidly and entirely slaughtered.

From on high, watching over the battlefield, Seifer saw the Estharians continue to surge out of their Fortresses, but the new wave of the enemy, charging across open ground, seemed to falter as they ran headlong into a rain of falling body parts, melted weapons, and splattering blood. Seifer watched as his own soldiers further dissuaded the enemy by pouring rocket and machinegun fire into the charging Estharian force, beating them back.

Finally, after several long seconds, the Estharian army, gunfire ripping into their ranks, fell back, retreating into the comparative safety of their own Garden.

They left seven thousand slaughtered Estharian warriors on the field outside of Galbadia Garden, with almost no Garden dead to show for their losses.

Seifer stared out over the hellish tangle of burned and shredded corpses, and shook his head. Every single one of those men had died for Crell Varines' lies and deceit.

Seifer sincerely hoped that the bastard would burn in the deepest pits of hell for these men who had died in his false name.

"Is . . . is this what war is like?" came a whisper behind Seifer, and he glanced back behind him, to see Serra standing behind the Galbadia Garden commander, looking out over the carnage. Seifer nodded grimly.

"Yeah, this is exactly what war is," he replied darkly. "You still up for this?"

She was silent for several moments, and when Seifer looked back at her, the girl was still staring at the horrific carnage that was spread out over the landscape. After several seconds, she slowly nodded, firming her jaw.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Then you'd better get ready for round two," he replied. "They'll be back, and next time, they won't come charging right at us begging to be massacred."

Seifer saw flashes of light to his right, and nodded as he saw the distant northern horizon darken. An avalanche of aircraft swept over the mountains, death flying before them as the Garden air force entered the battle.

* * *

_"Ragnarok Air Wing: You are clear to attack." _

Selphie, seated behind the controls of the Ragnarok, loosed a cry of exultation as Quistis' words could be heard over the comm. She turned her mighty airship, and the banking of the Ragnarok caused vast plumes of water to shoot out of the ocean as the craft turned, moving out of its terrain-following course. The draconic airship shot up into the sky, gunning its engines.

"Guns, remove safeties on all weapons!" she ordered, and Jofey, the SeeD sitting beside her, nodded, hands flying over the holographic panels.

"Aye, Selphie," he answered, smiling slightly, finally ready to unleash the hellish firepower at his fingertips.

"Ops, give us all the power we can to get us over that mountain!" Selphie ordered, leaning forward in her chair. Elain, sitting behind Selphie at the operations console, nodded silently, pumping all nonessential power into their engines.

"Hang on, guys!" Selphie ordered as the Ragnarok lanced across the ocean, rising into the sky as they drew closer to Balamb Garden. "Comms, tell our friends to keep it tight! We're going to burn the Estharians' air fleet to cinders! Whoo!"

As Selphie spoke, the skies behind her went momentarily dark as hundreds of shapes swept up into the skies after her airship, following her course. Sky blue-painted jets from Galbadia, larger brown and gray fighter-bombers from Dollet, and the slender, almost delicate fighters of Estharian defectors. Leading the fighter force were a dozen Estharian aircraft, painted with bloody red slashes along their fuselage, and the black stylized image of a raptor swooping in on its prey. Esthar's elite, Raptor Squadron, gathered around the Ragnarok.

The mountains of northern Balamb rose up beneath the tide of aircraft as they stabbed southward, flashing over the landscape. They flew over the peaks of the mountains, the black and gray tops of the range shooting beneath the wings of fighters, and they were over Balamb. The aircraft rapidly spotted the main Estharian base, near the coastline, and a vast array of fighters and bombers long a tremendous airfield the enemy had set up. Estharian ships were already taking off, slender fighters rising up from the fields to attack the invading aircraft. Many, however, were still preparing for takeoff.

"Those Estharians can set up bases fast," commented Jofey, and Selphie nodded.

"And we can knock 'em down faster!" Selphie answered. "Charge beam cannon and transfer control of the machineguns to my console! I'm not here just to drive this thing!"

"On it," Jofey replied, fingers tapping lights over his panel.

"Signal the fleet," Selphie continued. "Estharians, form a screen over the bombers. Galbadians and Dollet, order them to strafe the airfield; blow up anything that looks important, and then engage fighters!"

"And what about us?" Jofey asked as two lights flashed on top of Selphie's controls. She smiled diabolically. "Beam cannon their headquarters, and drop cluster bombs as we pass overhead. We're pounding that base flat!"

"Aye aye, Selphie," Jofey replied. "Coming into range . . . now!"

"Bombers, fire at will!" Selphie ordered as Raptor Squadron shot ahead, followed by two hundred more fighters, the best of Esthar's air corps spreading out to engage the enemy. Glittering needles and blazing pulse lasers shot between the two fighter fleets, Raptor Squadron interweaving inside the chaotic maelstrom of projectiles and beams. Dozens of the enemy exploded and evaporated at the ends of their weapons alone, and then the friendly and enemy fighters met, diving into a massive aerial battle over the island. Needles and lasers cut and flashed in the whirlwind of engaging fighters, but none of the enemy ships were able to break free an engage the Ragnarok or its bombers as they swept over the field.

The sky over Balamb turned into one titanic rainstorm of falling missiles as over eight hundred fighters and bombers opened up. Rivers of missiles shot down at the Estharian airbases and the fighters still waiting to launch. Enemy pilots leapt out of their craft as the wave of projectiles dove in, and crewmen scattered. The missiles slammed into the grounded fighters, ripping into the Estharian aircraft and blasting them apart. A blanket of fire and smoke spread across the airfield as more and more missiles fell, detonating and impacting against fighter craft, and then continuing toward temporary hangars where even more Estharian planes waited to launch.

Ragnarok held its fire, until it flew over a patch where a reserve force of Estharian fighters, as well as dozens of Corsair aerial transports, were positioned. Selphie grinned, and Jofey nodded, dropping a half-dozen cluster bombs over the airfield. The explosives fell amidst the aircraft and detonated, spreading annihilation over the grounded ships instantly.

A second later, the Estharian command center came into view, and Jofey settled his sights over it. Selphie tapped the triggers on her controls, and machinegun fire ripped into the headquarters, blasting chunks of armored plating from it, weakening the overall structure. When Jofey sent his shining bolt of energy into the building, the beam cannon's shot penetrated the armored plating and detonated deep inside. The Estharian HQ was torn asunder, blasted apart in a fireball of destructive energy as the Ragnarok shot past, engines roaring like the dragon it represented, eight hundred bombers and fighters flying in its wake, leaving nothing but a flattened and burning airfield behind them, and so many slagged Estharian aircraft.

"I think we've crippled their air-to-air game," Elain commented, looking out over the damage, and Selphie nodded as she swung the Ragnarok back toward the main dogfight.

"Now, let's get in there and put an end to this!" she declared, and gunned the engines, her massive force spearing toward the mass of battling fighters.

* * *

The front gate of Crell's Flying Fortress was a cacophony of chaos, where SeeD hammered Crell's troops, crushing them well in excess of five to one. The havoc being unleashed along the front gate and in the corridors and bays of the structure as Squall and Nash blasted and burned their way deeper into the Fortress naturally had the focused attention of the Estharian army. 

There was no one patrolling the darkened accessways in the Fortress' lower levels, so that when an access panel popped open and was lowered to the floor by the huge, armored, muscled arm of Raijin, none was present to see it.

Fujin landed on the floor, dropping from the vent shaft that her group had been moving through, and scanned the room around them, before nodding.

"Clear," she whispered, and Raijin dropped down next, staff in hand. Following the pair was Laguna Loire, the spry older man clad in combat fatigues and carrying his rifle. He looked over the room, one of several electrical and communications rooms for the Fortress, and a hub for its data traffic. Perfect.

He was still amazed at the ease by which they had gotten inside. Then again, the Fortresses were heavily based off Garden's own designs, even so far as to use similar accessways. However, the technology underlying them was distinctly Estharian, and there were ways to get around distinctly Estharian security. Laguna made it his business to know these methods. All it had taken was a Garden Zodiac insertion submersible, made for this type of aquatic infiltration, to get them near the Fortress while the battle was raging, and Laguna had found an external access hatch, popped the security, and gotten them inside.

Esthar's rightful President reached into his backpack and took out a light notebook computer. Raijin kept an eye on the door while Fujin helped him locate the main data hub and plug in, simulating a standard combat access request. Once he had access to the system, Laguna worked his way inside the ship's networks. Now, he just needed to override some security restrictions on certain systems . . . .

"Crell built his empire on lies," Laguna remarked quietly to Fujin, and she nodded. "Its only fitting that Truth is what brings him down."

* * *

"Status on the upper floors?" Quistis asked as she strode across the command deck. She looked up at the main screen, showing the Garden schematics, with the upper levels and the main gate flashing red, indicating that they were areas of conflict. 

"We're holding," answered the SeeD officer in charge of that sector. "Casualties are relatively light, though I think that they're simply trying to keep us from doing the same right back at them. They've violently resisted any attempts we made to attack their ship in response."

"Makes sense for a command ship," Quistis mused. "We haven't landed any troops on their ship, have we?"

"No, ma'am," the officer replied. "But any fire we send their way is returned ferociously. They definitely don't want us on the ship."

"They've already got their hands full with Squall and Nash," Quistis replied. "Front gate?"

"Estharian forces are being forced back into their own ship, but are rapidly organizing against our troops," replied one of the technicians. "Right now its a stalemate between our forces and the Estharians at the entry ramps."

"Squall has broken through their lines, correct?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," the tech answered. "He's already moving deep inside the enemy base. A substantial number of the enemy troops broke off to pursue him as he cut through their lines."

"Truth has penetrated the interior of the Fortress," came another call. "Our teams are in place."

"Have our troops draw back into Garden," Quistis ordered. " Tell them to take up defensive positions along our front gate and fend off any enemy attacks. Truth and Deception are onboard. Now we just have to hold until they finish their jobs."

She turned to another technician, their communications liaison with Galbadia Garden.

"What's the status of Galbadia Garden?"

"Minimal casualties," answered the technician. "Seifer and Randolph report that they've inflicted massive losses on the enemy and driven them back into their own Fortresses. They were apparently expecting us to rush out and engage them like we did at our front gate here."

"Tell them to maintain position and keep the enemy occupied while we finish our jobs." She turned to another liaison, the one for Trabia Garden. "Trabia?"

"Holding behind us," the man replied. "They reported that Rinoa collapsed momentarily from shock after taking out the two Fortresses that were moving after us, but she's fine now."

Quistis nodded, relieved. She had heard what had happened to Rinoa after the battle of Trabia and was worried that she would be all right with the task she had been assigned.

_After this is over, Rinoa, I hope we won't need to use your powers like this again . . . ._

"Air wing?"

"Enemy airbase flattened," the technician replied. "Selphie's forces are engaging the enemy that is airborne." He paused, and frowned. "Radar contacts indicate that the Estharian fleet to the south has launched its fighters and is sending them north. That may cause trouble."

"We'll handle that when the time comes," Quistis replied calmly. She looked over the data on her screens, and nodded, and finally allowed herself a smile. Despite everything that had happened, and in spite of all the possibilities that something could have gone wrong, things looked remarkably good.

If the battle went as planned, the war would be over within half an hour, and Crell's insane plans would be put to an end.

* * *

The corridors were slick with blood. Corpses and body parts were strewn about like fallen leaves, hundreds of men fallen to the ground along his path as Squall cut his way deeper and deeper into the Fortress. Down halls, through chambers, along passages, the SeeD chopped and slashed and massacred. Lionheart cut through the enemy with effortless grace, and Squall struck with no mercy, cleaving through his foes as if they were paper targets in a training room. 

The slow motion nightmare of dying men, flying blood, and torn bodies progressed through the halls, Squall chopping the enemy down like the killing machine he was born to be. The Chimera genes within him drove him forward, the SeeD training numbing his mind down to accommodate the slaughter. He worked without emotion, striking down his foes, arms and feet and body flowing in a whirlwind of death and violence as he stalked the corridors. The enemy came, the enemy died. He killed and killed and killed, over and over and over again, mind working almost on autopilot as he drove on, unrelenting.

Twenty minutes passed before Squall Leonhart stood in the corridors leading to the heart of Crell's Fortress, the walls and floor streaked with the blood of the dead, and none stood to oppose him. He'd lost count of the men he'd ripped through to get here, but he guessed the numbers of the slaughtered lay in the hundreds.

_**Six hundred and fifty-seven men.**_

Squall frowned as he heard Griever laughing in the back of his mind.

_Shut up._

_**Hm. This was most amusing to watch, though I do regret that you killed many of them so quickly that they felt little pain. Only the despair of realizing they were facing death itself. Still, that seems quite . . . adequate.**_

Squall didn't answer Griever's musings as he strode down the hallway. The Guardian seemed to consider speaking, but then opted to go silent and dormant once more as Squall advanced through the passages, and finally stood before the double doors that connected to the command chamber. He considered cutting through them, but even as he was contemplating that, they slid open on their own, revealing the large room beyond.

"Welcome, Commander," spoke the man standing across from the entrance. Squall slowly strode into the office, his inhuman senses primed and seeking out any threats. While Squall sensed the pulse of electronics and machinery surrounding him, he detected no active defense systems or the pulse of living guards, nor the energies inherent within an Elemental soldier. Crell was alone.

"You've been expecting me," Squall stated, and Crell laughed. The Commander focused on him, and could see the features of his face, so shockingly similar to Squall's own, though slightly different. Like looking at an identical twin to his mother . . . which Crell Varines actually was.

"I have, Commander Leonhart," Crell replied easily. His tone was far too relaxed for a man who was facing down someone as unbelievably dangerous as Squall. Something was wrong.

"Then you know why I'm here," Squall continued, stalking forward.

"You're here so you can die, Commander," Crell responded. Squall paused, slowly sliding into a defensive stance.

"Really."

"Yes, indeed," Crell continued. "Garden, along with the best of Galbadia and Dollet's militaries, are going to be annihilated in a single blazing fury of destruction on this glorious day of conquest. And once your armies are annihilated, nothing will stand between me and the rule of the entire world, as it was meant to be under Adel."

"Not if I can help it," Squall replied. "Besides, we've dealt with worse odds before, and two of your Fortresses have already been wiped out. Three against four is good odds, I'd estimate, and you've only got a single battalion of Elementals against ten thousand SeeDs."

"Indeed," Crell continued, and the dictator settled back into his chair, smiling evenly at Squall. His actions, clearly relaxed and blatantly making himself vulnerable, did nothing to lessen Squall's unease.

"Your analysis of the odds is indeed spot-on, considering the forces at my disposal at this moment," Crell continued. "The fleet is battling Dollet and Galbadia's navies to the west, and with twenty-thousand men lost at the hands of Rinoa, things are going well on your side. You and that traitor Nash have even caused considerable consternation among my own men in your valiant assault on my headquarters. You have even advantage in the air, and you possess three pure Elementals, not to mention your own daughter. You have the advantage, Commander, and for gaining such a position, I do salute you."

Squall stared with his eyeless gaze at Crell, dread working its way into his gut as he realized what Crell was leading up to.

"Of course, everything you've done has been based entirely on a simple, basic assumption, Commander," Crell stated, leaning forward. "Tell me . . . did Dincht honestly believe that Malachi told him the truth in their battle? Relying on the infallible nature of 'villainous exposition'?"

Squall's mouth opened slightly, and h e understood instantly what Crell meant. The dictator lowered a hand to his desk and tapped a control, smiling like a predator who had caught his prey perfectly.

_"Uncloak."_

* * *

"Commander Trepe!" shouted one of the technicians, her words cutting into Quistis' ears as she reviewed the battle data. The words she was speaking were loud and urgent. 

"Yes?" Quistis asked. "What is it?"

"Enemy contacts! We have two, five, six . . . eight additional Estharian Flying Fortresses appearing all around our position! They're . . . ma'am, they're coming out of active camouflage!"

Quistis stood stock still for a moment, the horror of the words the technician had just stated sinking in fully. Everything, this entire battle, the six vulnerable enemy ships, the data they'd learned from Malachi, the Garden strike against Crell himself . . . all of it was . . . .

"It . . . it's a trap."

* * *

Holographic displays blazed to life around Squall, displaying the battle raging beyond. Squall turned, casting his eyeless gaze over the images, and watched with shock as indistinct shapes formed in the ocean surrounding the battling warships. In the midst of rippling waves, a series of massive shapes formed into existence, seeming to un-fade into view from nothing, surrounding the Gardens. 

Eight massive Estharian Flying Fortresses, bristling with soldiers and weapons, encircled the warring Gardens, fully entrapping the three structures in a ring of a dozen Estharian war machines laden with over a hundred thousand enemy soldiers.

"Tsk-tsk," Crell stated with glee. "After all, Dincht only saw one of my hangar bays on that island, and thus saw only half of my Fortress fleet. You made a simple, terrible mistake in assuming those were the only Fortresses I had. And you made a greater mistake in trusting Malachi's seemingly innocuous words. You never realized that part of the plan with assaulting Trabia was to "leak" intelligence regarding the Dollet attack."

Squall turned back to Crell, matching his predatory eyes with his own emotionless, eyeless stare.

"I set you up, and you took the bait perfectly," Crell finished. "Four to three, Garden can handle. But can you battle a dozen enemy ships at once with your paltry army of SeeDs and normal troops?"

"It doesn't matter," Squall replied after a moment, and he slowly drew Lionheart, the glowing blade illuminating the darkened office more brightly than any hologram. "You die, and the game is over."

"Indeed," Crell replied. "That's why-"

Squall whirled, Lionheart flashing across and meeting a crystalline blade exactly like it as it dove in at his back, the blue and purple blades meeting and crossing. It took even Squall a moment to fully come to grips with the figure behind him, at the manic glee and madness in her twisted visage as she leapt back, issuing a sound somewhere between a hiss and a laugh.

"Illarra," Squall snarled, and he saw her eyes, which to his vision glowed brightly with blazing energy, a clear indicator of what the woman had done to herself.

"Squall," she cooed, her voice dripping with her blatant loss of sanity.

"-I've arranged for some _entertainment_," Crell finished as the blinded woman, now armed with Squall's own Zanshin sight, shot forward again, the SeeD Commander charging as well. Their blades impacted, a thunderbolt of light flashing across the chamber as the enemy Fortresses in the holograms surrounding them closed in for the kill.

* * *

-

* * *

Phew. That was very enjoyable! Finally, the saga of Blood of the Chimera is winding down, but its going to end with a flash! And trust me: there are still many twists left in this story. With only a few chapters left of Blood, what's going to happen? Will we see Serra unleash her powers? Will Alucard return to the fray? And what of Hyne? And naturally, can Garden fend off the full armies of Crell's legions? 

We'll see. ;)

Sadly, however, I've been forced to discontinue shout-outs. The rules of the site prohibit their use. However, I will stillanswer general questions in my author's notes and I will get to answering peoples' reviews, for at least we now have that ability to answer signed reviews directly!

Ah, well. Until next chapter...


	26. XXV: Hellfire

_**Chapter 25: Hellfire**_

Hyperion erupted from its sheath, deflecting a descending shotaxe. Seifer dropped his left hand to his side and ripped his saber from its scabbard and slashed up with an overhand slash, the blade bisecting the attacking cyborg's neck. he whipped around, Hyperion rising and then diving in a deceptive thrust that pierced the throat of another cyborg, and then hurled himself into a backwards flip, evading a storm of plasma bolts, before shooting forward into another pair of cyborg soldiers, gunblade and sword slashing and flashing in a shower of ringing metal and rending edges that cut both Estharians down.

The Estharian assault had come so fast that he had never had time to rally his troops or redirect them to attack. The eight Flying Fortresses had been closing even as they had uncloaked, and by the time Seifer had seen them, troops were already swarming off the enemy ships. Not content to repeat the massacre they had suffered moments before, the Estharian troops had launched rivers of withering plasma fire that had forced Seifer's army to take cover inside Galbadia Garden. Corsair assault transports had launched from the Estharian ships and had begun dropping platoons of the enemy on the upper levels of Galbadia Garden, where the defenses against that type of attack were weaker and less organized. An entire legion of the enemy was seemingly dropping from the sky, Estharian cyborgs leading the attack and engaging SeeD, Dollet, and Galbadian troops in close-quarters battle.

Being out in the open, atop a command pedestal, Seifer had been an obvious target, which was why seven Corsairs, each carrying a full platoon of about thirty men each, had gone after him.

Honestly, though, Seifer felt slightly insulted that the enemy had only sent just over two hundred men after him.

_At least some of these scrubs are cyborgs,_ he thought as he chopped down another foe, whipping around into a spiraling series of vicious chops and slashes with both weapons, felling three more of his foes, before leaping out of the move into a rapid double stab into the chest of yet another enemy cyborg. So far, he'd dropped about twenty of the enemy within the first thirty seconds of the battle, and Seifer Almasy's momentum and exhilaration kept building as he danced and spun and thrust and slashed through the enemy horde as they kept dropping all around him.

Of course, not all of the enemy was engaging Seifer, for a small cadre of SeeD officers had also been on the command pedestal deck along with Seifer, supplying information regarding their enemies' movements. Along with this small group of SeeDs was another quartet of mercenaries, who stuck tightly close to the subject they needed to protect.

Lex, katana in its sheath at his side, stood at the front of the group, hand on his blade's handle, with three other SeeDs, two firearms-wielding Galbadia Garden mercenaries, the other from Balamb and carrying a halberd. The tightly focused group had so far beaten back any attacks by the enemy, al of which had consisted of small squads of Estharians looking for more opponents to battle. In the middle of the tight circle was Serra, watching the chaos unfold, shocked at the intensity and sheer numbers of the enemy that were pouring down all around them, and even more amazed as Seifer stood in the middle of the onslaught, unyielding and stacking the dead around him like a macabre stone wall.

Another squad of Estharians dropped down before the group, and Lex shot into the middle of them, striking with a single flashing cut of his katana and chopping one man in half. A cyborg dove in at the group, and was cut down by bullets as the halberd-carrying SeeD engaged two Estharian regulars. Lex chopped another foe in half with a flicker of his blade, hopping back from a strike by another foe as he resheathed his katana and struck again.

A cyborg shot around past Lex, diving for Serra, shotaxe raised. Her eyes widened, and she set her feet, preparing to meet the attack. The black and white vapors which had trailed her in the forest a few days ago suddenly appeared around Serra as Diablos and Pheonix awakened, ready to defend her-

-and a wing of shining red, gold, green, and blue feathers materialized from her right shoulder, and swept forward, an arcing flash of reddish white light slashing through the cyborg in an instant and burning away half his body, sending him toppling to the floor, a charred, blasted corpse.

More Estharians dropped to the command deck, surrounding the group. The SeeDs surrounding Serra were suddenly overmatched by the sheer numbers of the enemy, well over two dozen men suddenly rushing them. Serra saw this, and immediately turned toward the largest concentration of the enemy and hurled herself at them. Lex saw this, and looked back at her, opening his mouth to shout a warning as she dove into the waiting axes of seven enemy soldiers.

Pheonix's wing shot before her, warding her from several strikes, forming a shining, shimmering feathery shield before her that the blades bounced off of harmlessly. From her left shoulder, however, a solid black leathery bat-like wing erupted, shooting ahead, shadow rippling forth from it and tearing the lifeforce from two of the enemy instantly. Pheonix's wing shot ahead as well, creating a stream of white light that vaporized another enemy soldier. More shadow and light shot from the wings, ripping into the enemy and laying waste to the Estharians.

The remainder of the force, now reduced by half through the combined efforts of Serra and the SeeDs, retreated in the face of her power, even as the pair of wings faded into black and white mists circling her body.

Those retreating men found their guts rent open and their throats slashed as Seifer cut through them, both swords flashing, his gunblade blasting arms and legs to vapor as he passed through the group. He stopped before Serra and her quartet of SeeD bodyguards, blades dripping crimson.

"Too many!" Seifer snarled, and even as he spoke, the surviving SeeD officers broke through the enemy lines and regrouped around the small force. Dozens more Estharians dropped tot he ground behind them, and Seifer whirled to face the enemy, saber ripping into the lungs of a charging enemy soldier while Hyperion slashed the throat of another in a single deft move.

Beyond him, a dozen more Corsairs were swooping in, bays opening and revealing hundreds more of the enemy, who leapt down at the small SeeD force.

It seemed Seifer had finally gotten the respect he demanded.

"Fall back, inside the building!" Seifer ordered, and the SeeDs quickly did so, retreating before the advancing enemy, not even Seifer being crazy enough to stand before this many of the enemy.

* * *

Lionheart's blue-white blade erupted in a cascade of light as Squall dropped low, parrying a rapid strike and thrusting forward. Illarra's sword broke away and parried the thrust, then flipped over to block an overhead cleave, which she had anticipated squall would follow up with. Squall caught her counter-thrust even as it started, parrying the purple crystal blade out wide, and shot forward. Illarra saw the coming slash and spun low into a sweep, which squall flipped over, leaping past her into a forward dive. As he tumbled past her, he came around with a spinning chop, but Illarra had already come about to deflect that attack. Squall hit the ground as the clash of combating light erupted around him, and shot ahead into a thrust. 

Illarra naturally parried, and came around with a quick cut that Squall was already ducking beneath, pivoting on his left leg and shooting his right leg forward. Her left forearm caught the kick solidly, and then Squall twisted, flipping over into a mid-air overhead axe-kick that smashed down into the top of her head, stunning Illarra and staggering her for an instant. He set his feet and shot ahead, Lionheart stabbing at her heart, when she suddenly spun away, left hand drawing her knife and slashing out wide with it. Lionheart chopped across as Squall drew the knife off his shoulder, raising it to parry, but a hairsbreadth too late.

Squall hissed in pain as her knife cut a gash in his left arm, and she let out a yelp of surprise as the tip of Lionheart gouged her side. Both the SeeD and the insane woman took reflexive steps back,glancing at their injuries, and noted that while blood seeped from the wounds, that neither of them was serious. Indeed, it would take a lot more than a single shallow wound to even begin to slow down the two Elementals.

"Do you like it, Squall?" Illarra asked, sheathing her knife and gesturing to her face. "Its beautiful, isn't it?I can see every move you make before it even begins, just you could before."

"And this is what happens when two people with Zanshin fight," Squall responded quietly, sheathing his own knife.

"A race to see who can spot and respond faster to each other's next attacks," Illarra answered, nodding. She grinned, and hefted her gunblade, sliding into another defensive stance. "Come now, squall. Let's give this world a battle unlike anything its ever seen before!"

_There's no turning back, is there?_ Squall's thoughts were punctuated when she shot ahead, purple gunblade cutting against the crystal edge of Lionheart, another eruption of clashing energies blasting off their transparent blades. He countered instantly, and she parried that counter, shooting her blade forward in a move that he ducked beneath, rising up into an ascending cleave that she spun around, slashing out with her knife in a move that he leapt away from and came forward in response to, which she in turn caught on her blade and threw out wide, even as Squall sent a knee into her gut and then punched her hard in the face with a left hook.

In the span of two seconds, their swords had crossed a half dozen times in a flowing ballet of violence. Illarra sneered and shot ahead again, purple light cutting before her, her blade ringing against Squall's own. He caught the blade on his weapon and held it, pushing back suddenly, forcing her slightly off balance, and dropped into another sweep. She leapt over the sweep, leg lashing out and kicking Squall solidly in face and launching him back across the room into one of the holograms. Light curled around his body as she dove into the tactical display after the SeeD Commander.

_She truly has lost her mind . . . ._ Before, Illarra's madness had been controlled, but now, Squall knew, without question, that she had gone off the deep end. He knew, as their blades clashed and they passed through the hologram, rapidly reading each others' moves, that there would be no walking away from this one.

_One of us is going to die._

The two blades met with tremendous force, blasting the room with their clashing crystallized energy. Squall circled to the right, Illarra moving to the left, matching his moves as the blades connected. Then she suddenly started to the right, launching into a sudden rush that Squall was already compensating for, backing up, out of the holograms. Her blade sang against his a dozen times in a fourth that many steps, the impacts flashing so brightly that they were as another light source illuminating the chamber.

Squall stopped he retreat, setting his feet, Lionheart connecting solidly against Illarra's blade, stopping it cold. A roundhouse punch shot at her head, and her left hand rose to block. Squall cut the blow short, spinning into a low kick at her gut, but she was already spinning around the striking foot, her gunblade descending. Blue-white met the dropping purple sword, the white light pouring over the pair's bodies, and Illarra flipped backwards, the tip of her left boot slamming Squall in the chin and rocking him backward. He fell back a step, and she shot forward, thrusting at his face. Lionheart leapt into the path, but in the resulting flash of light, she dropped into a low crouch, knife appearing in her hand and stabbing into Squall's left knee. He let out a gasp of pain and spun into a reflexive roundhouse kick, which Illarra dropped even lower to avoid.

She didn't dodge Squall's shoulder knife as it cut down into her bicep, and she leapt back, grabbing her upper arm as blood flowed down its length. Squall took a staggering step away, and looked down at his newest wound. He nodded grimly as he saw it, feeling pain shooting up his leg with every step. The injury hurt, badly, but it wouldn't slow him down. He'd taken worse hits before.

"Don't you see it, Commander?" Crell stated from behind his desk, eyes lighting up with glee as he watched the duel. "Do you feel the inevitability as your strength slowly fades? Do you understand the destructive power you face? Your armies are going to fall this day, as will you at the hands of my daughter. Nothing will remain to stand in my way after this day, Commander Leonhart! _Nothing!"_

Squall didn't respond to Crell's rant, instead focusing on Illarra. He saw her inspect the wound, then glance back to him with her blazing, blinded eyes, and then grin with malevolent glee. There was something in her expression that told Squall she had heard her father's words, and knew something that Crell didn't.

But rather than say anything, she shot ahead again, cackling with blatant insanity. Her sword rang against his. He lashed out with a knee. She blocked with her own leg, kicking off him and spinning into a sweep that he hopped over, an overhead cleave dropping at her head. She deflected the blade out wide, rushing ahead with a shoulder block that Squall sidestepped around. She cackled again, and it was then that Squall realized he had his back to Crell's desk and the window that framed the dictator.

A knife shot at his head, which he caught on Lionheart. Her gunblade chopped at his gut, and he sucked it in, hopping back and countering. Gunblade slammed against gunblade, and she stepped forward into a solid, simple, brutal forward kick, putting all her weight and power behind it even as the two blades locked.

Her boot smashed into Squall's chest, and he was hurled backward. Crell dropped behind his desk as Squall rocketed past, crashed into the window, and shattered the transparisteel like it was delicate paper-thin glass.

Squall was hurled out of the Fortress and launched backward, sliding down the exterior of the ship's domed metal hull, toward the water below.

* * *

Zell didn't know where to begin. 

He ducked to the ground, legs lashing out, crushing the kneecaps of his opponent and sending the Estharian sprawling tot he deck. he flipped up onto his feet, over the crippled foe, slamming into another soldier with his shoulder and sending the man crashing into a pair of his comrades. he spun around, sidestepping an axe cleave, and punching the striking soldier in the chest, shattering his bones and launching him away. He batted a second axe aside, grabbing the soldier's right elbow and shattering it, then throwing him to the floor.

The brawler was, at that moment, working exclusively to kill or bring down his enemies as fast as possible. As hundreds of enemy soldiers continued to drop into the front gate, a silver and black tide of insectile-armored soldiers that poured into the SeeD defenders, he had to fight with all speed available. Working to cripple or kill his foes with single blows kept him from being tied up too long against too many of the enemy. Zell couldn't afford to waste time.

With every man he killed or disabled, though, Zell had to take a step back, cursing himself with every movement. It was exactly like the Quad battle three years back. All around him, the SeeDs and cadets fought with an insane frenzy, slaughtering the enemy two or three to one, but the unending tide of Estharians kept pushing them back, and the enemy cyborgs and soldiers, with their advanced armor and expert training, proved to be more powerful man-for-man than the Galbadians had years ago. The whirlwind of war raged all around the brawler as the SeeDs fought for every inch. No ground was sacrificed unfought and without a SeeD falling down atop their opponents.

However, the enemy was gaining ground steadily, and unending tides of Corsair transports swept over the front gate, dropping entire platoons of the enemy at a time. Thousands swarmed off of Crell's command fortress, the most fanatical and loyal of his Adelist soldiers slamming into the SeeDs while hundreds more dropped from the aircraft, and thousands of others assaulted the upper floors from jetpacks, aircraft, or, in the case of enemy cyborgs, leaping straight across. Nearly every sector of Balamb Garden was under attack as the eight thousand SeeDs and soldiers onboard battled twenty thousand Estharian soldiers from Crell's Fortress and another that had already docked with Garden.

Zell knew he couldn't do anything to stop so many of the enemy, and this enraged him to no end. For those enemy soldiers that got close to Zell, they quickly learned that an enraged Zell Dincht was no opponent to stand against for long. His steel-sheathed knuckles shattered heads, broke ribs, and crushed arms. His booted feet crushed organs, ripped through armor, and broke apart legs. He headbutted, he slammed, he threw, he stomped, he punched, he kicked, and he roared in raging fury as the enemy came on. All around him, the SeeDs fought on, unrelenting in their unyielding defense of their home, even as they were pushed back past the turnstiles and actually into the Garden superstructure itself..

There was a momentary break for a split second as Zell crushed an enemy soldier, and spun, looking for another target. However, no enemy soldier drew near him for a moment, perhaps afraid to close with the raging brawler, with over forty dead or screaming, crippled soldiers laying on the deck immediately around him, and many more scattered across the field.

Then Zell saw why these men had stepped back, as a company of Estharians, clad in black armor with red trim and red helmets, their visors an ashen black, rushed ahead with speed unmatched among the enemy ranks. Zell knew instantly the enemy he faced, but showed no fear. Instead, he called up his SeeD magic, summoned his strength, and sent a spell cascading over his body.

These were Elementals, Crell's ultimate soldiers.

He opened his eyes, the irises turning red as a horrible frenzy swept over his body. A crimson aura surged up around the brawler, his muscles flexing and bulging, his breathing quickening. he looked upon his enemies, the rage pouring over in his mind and seizing control. Zell opened his mouth, let loose an animal roar promising death and blood, and surged ahead.

"Berserk" was a spell SeeDs were trained to only use in the most dangerous and desperate of situations. Zell Dincht, facing legions of the enemy and an entire company of bio-enhanced Elemental soldiers, had decided that now was a good moment to use it.

Light flashed over the Garden as one of the Fortresses closed with Trabia Garden, and the slight rational part of Zell's mind that was left operating wished Rinoa good luck as his right fist blasted straight through an Elementals' helmeted head, splattering bone and brains and maroon blood all over his arm as the decapitated corpse fell to the ground.

* * *

The debris from the destroyed Flying Fortress rained down around Trabia Garden as Rinoa dropped to her knees, panting. Her left hand clawed across her chest as pain resounded across her body, wracking her heart and lungs with waves of agony. No one on the command deck of the Garden turned to her, too busy giving frantic orders to their soldiers and SeeDs. 

_I'm pushing myself too hard . . . I can't use much more of Hyne's power . . . ._

They're coming in from the front gate!" shouted a SeeD behind her, and Rinoa clenched her teeth, standing up. She didn't care about the pain. Rinoa grimaced away the agony, banishing it from her mind as she turned toward the front gate, watching as hundreds f Estharians swarmed off the Fortress and surged toward the waiting SeeD defenders. She raised a hand to the sky, feeling a fresh shock of pain even as she called upon her powers.

A dozen bolts of lightning shot down from the clear ocean sky, slamming down upon the front gate and the charging Estharians. The bolts impacted with the strength of a summoned meteor, blasting the enemy and sweeping them aside, hurling them out to sea. More lightning slammed the Fortress, playing along its metal hull, arcing and crackling. Rinoa grabbed her chest again, feeling weakened by the assault, but satisfied; the gate was clear for the moment, the enemy annihilated.

Corsair transports swooped in at Trabia Garden, hundreds of the enemy preparing to leap down upon the upper levels of the Garden. Snarling and banishing the pain, Rinoa swept her hands before her, calling hurricane-force winds to her aid. The stunning wave of blasting air smashed into the transports, hurling them back at the ship they originated from, crushing them against its hull like bugs.

"There's another Fortress, closing in from port!"

Rinoa turned to her left as SeeDs rushed across Trabia Garden, and saw that the call was correct; another transport closed in on Trabia Garden. It was too close for her to destroy the drive system; she would have to use sheer brute force to annihilate it. Rinoa reached out with her mind, wrapping telekinetic hands over the hull, and _pulled._ Metal rent and peeled away, a dozen decks suddenly revealed along the ship's flank as Rinoa peeled off a hundred foot-high strip of armored plating, tearing it away like a rind from an orange.

Shouts from the direction of the front gate caught her attention again, and she spun back toward it, gesturing viciously even as she dimly registered the wracking pains lancing through her bones at the overwhelming power she was using and abusing. Fire blazed into being over the front gate, immolating hundreds of Estharians in an instant. That location momentarily secured, she turned back to the damaged fortress, and raised her hands into the air.

Many on Trabia Garden had seen Rinoa's expenditure of overwhelming power before, but all of them were shocked and awed when she brought both hands down, slamming them into the deck at her feet, and the top of the Fortress bent inward, as if a tremendous invisible hammer had fallen from the skies and crashed right on top of it.

The telekinetic impact sent shockwaves through the water as the warship stopped dead in its tracks, driven halfway underwater by the impact. Waves of ocean water poured into the ship through the massive tear Rinoa had inflicted on the Fortress moments ago, and the Estharian craft immediately began sinking into the sea.

Another horde of Estharians stormed toward the front gate of Trabia Garden, and Rinoa, gritting her teeth as she whipped around, raised her hands again, calling forth more power. Her vision started to blur as agony erupted across her body. She felt as if her organs were being sliced apart, her bones shattering, and her heart started beating erratically. Her eyes began to darken as shadow engulfed the army storming the gate, washing over them and ripping their energy from their bodies, throwing them to the deck.

The wave of shadow magic passed, and Rinoa let loose a scream of pain as the agony cutting through her doubled over, and then fell to her knees again. She struggled to look up, in time to see the sky darken momentarily as hundreds of missiles and single crimson dagger streak down toward the remainingFortress, ripping into its hull and blasting chunks of armor plating off. Rinoa saw the Fortress begin to collapse under the overwhelming aerial assault, and managed a smile, knowing that she had won.

She dropped to the deck, blacking out. He last conscious sensation was of being picked up, a SeeD screaming _"Medic! Medic!"_

* * *

Selphie peeled off from her strafing run, a hundred fighters and bombers doing the same as the Fortress started to sink beneath the ocean waves. 

"Whoo! Suck it beeches!" she shouted, pumping a fist in the air as she whipped the Ragnarok around, pressing all her crew back into their seats from the pressure of the motion.

"How many missiles we have left?" she asked, and Jofey shook his head.

"We used the last of our torpedoes and missiles on that run," he explained. "And nearly everyone's missiles have been used up so far." Selphie frowned as he force came back around turning toward the remnants of the dogfight overhead. Between the thousand aircraft in their fleet, along with Raptor Squadron's sheer lethality and the fact that over three fourths of the Estharian planes had been destroyed before they could take off, the air battle was nearly over. They had, for the moment, complete control over the skies, though an Estharian air force matching their in sheer size was closing from the south. But they were some time away, and for the moment, they had air superiority. Still, pulse lasers and machineguns could only do so much . . . .

"Selphie," Elain stated from the Ops panel. "We've got four of the new Estharian ships closing with Galbadia Garden, which is already engaging two more. The wounded enemy ship is also closing slowly with Galbadia Garden. If they get there, we could be looking at over sixty thousand enemy soldiers hitting that Garden head on." Selphie's eyes widened, and she nodded.

"Get all of our spare fighters over to Galbadia Garden!" she ordered. Strafe the enemy wherever they can! I don't care if they have to use pulse lasers and missiles, we have to bring down those Fortresses! They need us over there!"

"Aye, Selphie!" she answered, as the tiny SeeD pilot brought her airship around.

"Jofey, get that beam cannon charged up," she added, leaning forward over the controls. "Business is going to be very good today!"

* * *

A half-dozen SeeDs, along with a pair of technicians, stood in the central drive chamber of Balamb Garden, well beneath the battle raging up above. The guard detail listened to reports over the radio of the enemy as they breached every level and sector of Balamb Garden. 

"Shit, I hate being down here," one of them muttered.

"Yeah, it kills me to leave the fighting to everyone else," snarled a second one. "Why are we protecting the drive system anyway? We're deep in the core, no one's getting in here."

"But the drive is critical," answered a technician. "If it gets destroyed, Garden won't be able to float and will sink."

Another SeeD opened his mouth to agree, and suddenly reached up to his throat, eyes widening as blood seeped over his hands-

"Under fire!" shouted another SeeD, raising his spear-

"Left! Six on the left!" warned another as a half dozen black armored soldiers appeared in the room-

"I'm hit!" screamed another as a bullet blasted through his chest. He ran toward his attacker, who flipped backward with speed matching his own-

"They're everywhere!" screamed a technician, firing his pistol at another of their attackers-

"Control, this is Drive Central! We are under attack! I repeat, we are-"A knife stabbed into the technician's neck, and he fell over dead onto his console, radio dropping from his hands.

Five seconds later, the guard detail and technicians were all down, the only one still alive being the first SeeD attacked as he lay on the floor, clutching his throat, gurgling helplessly as he bled out.

Major Eric Malachi calmly wiped off his knife as he turned to the two dozen Elemental commandos he'd hand-picked for this mission, ignoring the dying SeeD.

"Fetch the bomb," he ordered, and a trio of Elementals nodded, hurrying out of the chamber and through the accessways beneath Balamb Garden, back to the small submersible they'd used to get into the academy.

"The rest of you," he continued, and nodded toward the elevator outside the room. "Watch the door, and cut the elevator power. They know we're down here; its only a matter of time until we get visitors."

* * *

Fire cascaded up the corridor, burning through the dozen Estharian soldiers standing before Nash as the scientist advanced up the hallway. Smoking ash filled the hallways behind him, flying wildly through the air as he burned through all of his opposition with savage mercilessness. Within a matter of minutes, the scientist, eyes blazing with his unstoppable intent and desire for revenge, had plowed through a full company of Estharian soldiers, his fires blasting away their skin and burning down to their bones and beyond, leaving charred victims in his wake. No foe stood before him as he methodically stalked the corridors, incinerating any who stood in his path. 

There were no laughing remarks or snide comments from Nash as he blazed his trail through the Fortress, destroying any who stood in his path, leaving char marks and semi-molten metal wherever a foe had challenged him. There were no war cries or challenges issued from him, just one constant, singular word that he shouted as he advanced.

_"HYNE!"_ Nash thundered as his fires consumed a hapless enemy soldier he held in one hand. The man was reduced to ash across his torso, and his charred remnants slid through the enraged scientist's fingers. More enemy troops fled before his assault, but Nash's fires beat their fleeing footsteps, burning the men down as they retreated.

_"HYNE! Show yourself, you worthless bitch of a Guardian!"_

Nash reached a doorway that stood in his path, the solid metal blocking his advance. Fire erupted along his arm, and with a single devastating punch, he blasted the metal portal into flying shards of molten doorway, and strode through, into a wide, open muster bay, filled with several tanks and scout bikes. Nash stared across the chamber, walking into the middle of it, and saw none of the enemy cannon fodder standing in his way. The chamber was remarkably empty and desolate. Nash snarled in frustration, his emotions displaying themselves most clearly in a aura of fire that erupted around his body.

_"HYNE!"_ he demanded again, his voice resounding off the walls, echoing over and over again.

There was silence for several moments, and Nash clenched his teeth in anger, and turned, looking for a doorway out of the chamber. He stopped in the middle of his search, however, when he heard a faint laughter echoing off the vehicles in the room. The scientist let his fires die down to a simmer, and turned in the direction of the sound.

Sitting atop one of the tanks, legs crossed and seeming completely relaxed, was a small, brown-haired girl in a simple blue dress, barely ten years old.

Hyne.

"You've been looking for me?" she whispered, smiling, and Nash let his flames rise slightly, the only indicator of his emotions.

"Heh," came a voice from behind the scientist, and Nash glanced over his shoulder, seeing the cloaked, grinning visage of Hades as he stepped around the side of a tank, scythe balanced over his shoulders. He leaned back against the tank, as completely relaxed as Hyne, and regarded the Elemental before them.

"Not very many people so willingly jump into complete annihilation," he remarked with a chuckle. "So, you're Nash, huh? Chief scientist of the Elemental Project? The one who managed to complete all the necessary work on our little science project, huh?"

"That's right," Nash snarled, barely keeping his rage under control, though his slowly rising fires blazing around his body clearly showed his fury to both the Guardians. "I've been waiting a long time for this." He looked directly at Hyne, and then pointed at her. "You, Hyne. You're going to die, _right now_."

"Uhh, no," Hades replied quickly, stepping forward, shaking his head. "Not how it works, kiddo. See, me and Hyne, we're a partnership of sorts. We both have the same goals, after all." He strode toward Nash, slowly taking his scythe off his back and his grin widening. "So, you don't mess with her without messing with me at the same time."

"I don't need any shit from you," Nash replied, not even looking at Hades as he spoke. "Go sit down and let the big boys and girls play."

"How rude!" Hades muttered, smile never wavering. "Okay, big bad Elemental. You think you're hardcore?" Beneath his cowl, Hades' youthful visage burned away, revealing the blackened skull of Death, the Grim Reaper's visage falling on Nash as he leveled his scythe. "Okay, we'll play by good old classic rules. I'll be Hyne's little flunkie minion today. You can't get to her until you get past-"

Nash spun around, a whirlwind of flames shooting around his arm as he sucker-punched Hades right in the jaw, sending the Guardian of Death flipping end over and to slam headfirst into the tank he was standing on front of. Nash whipped around toward Hyne, a gout of fire lancing off his arm and shooting toward her.

She blinked, and the fires simply sizzled out an instant before they touched her. She watched Nash with complete calm as he rushed forward, arms erupting into blue-white fires, screaming in fury. Both hands shot forward at Hyne, Nash opening his palms right in her face, and the fires exploded out at her smiling visage.

Naturally, they simply vanished less than an inch from his palms, never touching Hyne as she sat there. Hyne lazily raised a hand, pointed it at Nash as his attack faded and he readied another storm of hellfire, and white light flashed from her fingertips.

One of the tanks across the chamber was flipped over on its side, a man-shaped dent in the side of it as Nash was bounced off the vehicle and sent careening into a wall, before flopping to the floor. He blinked, and managed to take a breath, pain exploding up his body as he felt the ache from both impacts shooting through him. Slowly, the scientist stood up, shaking his head, shocked by what had just happened. He knew Hyne could suppress energy, but not to that great of a degree . . . .

"I don't get any respect nowadays," Hades growled, vaulting over a tank and standing before Nash, grinning as he looked at the Elemental. "Seriously, man, one-hit instagibs don't _work_ on people like me. You have to actually fight the mid-boss before you can take on the final boss. Its just how these things work."

"Fucker!" Nash snarled, and shot forward in an eyeblink, wreathing himself in fire as he delivered a rapid one-two jab combination. Hades snapped up his polearm, the shaft of his scythe intercepting both blows. Nash whipped around, diving into a low sweep, which Hades hopped over, and then chopped down with his scythe. Nash rolled to the side, the blade slicing through only air, and came around with a vicious hook trailed by an inferno. Hades caught the hit on the side and was spun around viciously, but used the momentum to come around with a wide-flying slash of his blade, which Nash was barely able to duck beneath. The blade sliced into the side of another tank and cut clear through the metal, erupting out the other side as Hades continued to spin around.

The scythe settled back into his firm grip as Nash shot ahead with a rising knee, which the Guardian of Death blocked quickly, parrying the strike once more. However, both of Nash's arms shot ahead, fires swirling around them, and slammed Hades on both sides of his head. The Guardian took a step back, and black light erupted from his upper body, sending Nash sprawling back to the floor. Hades calmly shook his head, as if to ward away a gnat, and stepped forward, twirling his scythe calmly in his left hand.

"Look, pal, maybe you don't get it," Hades continued as Nash rose to his feet. "I'm Guardian of freaking _Death_ here. Not the Guardian of Prancing Pixies or Anemic Five-Year Olds. I'm the _real_ deal. You can't just waltz past me like I'm another Estharian soldier."

"You want to bet?" Nash replied, standing tall. The scientist held up his hands, cracking his knuckles and then popping his neck. Hades watched him for a moment, seemingly relaxed, yet alert and ready for anything-

_FAK-WHOOM!_

A solid sphere of blue-white fire erupted where Hades was standing, blasting the air around him away, and Nash shot forward, right arm arcing back into a wide-flying punch that started all the way back in Dollet, arced around Balamb Island, dove through Crell's Fortress, and slammed right into Hades' face even as he was registering the flare of hellfire that had burst around him.

The wall directly behind Hades, all the way across the muster bay, then sported a nice, Guardian of Death-shaped hole.

That situation dealt with, Nash walked back into the center of the chamber, and stared directly at Hyne.

"Now, where were we?" he asked her.

"That was quite the impressive display there," she replied calmly. Hyne leaned forward and pushed herself off the top of the tank, dropping to the floor to face Nash directly. "Not everyone can simply punch the Guardian of Death through a wall quite like you just did."

"I've had some practice," Nash responded, simmering fires rising up around his body as he spoke.

"I guess you've proven yourself reasonably worthy of my attention now," Hyne continued. "In fact, I'm so interested in what you can do that I'm now a bit curious. Why is it that you've sought me out?"

"Because you destroyed everything," Nash replied, quietly. He narrowed his eyes, fires intensifying around his body. "You wiped all of it out. I've spent an incredible amount of time looking for you so I can reduce you to constituent atoms and energy."

"What did I destroy?" Hyne asked calmly, raising her eyebrows. "I've done some fine deeds of destruction in my time, but I usually just let the natural forces of entropy have their way with things. But you make it sound like its personal."

"Oh, yes, very personal," Nash snarled. "Very, very _fucking_ personal. Does the name Ultimecia ring any bells?"

At that, Hyne smiled, and then laughed.

"Oh, yes, Ultimecia! Of course! The Sorceress from the alternate future that Squall killed. How can I forget someone who almost facilitated my ultimate goal?"

"Yeah, her," Nash replied. "You know what? You'd think that with all the annihilation she caused, that most of the people from her world died."

"That was part of her appeal, I do agree," Hyne responded. "But . . . what relationship does this have with you? All the people in Ultimecia's alternate timeline no longer exist, seeing as how that timeline has been . . . removed from the equation."

"Not all of them," Nash answered, and slowly brought the cloth bundle off his back. "Not me."

"You came from Ultimecia's timeline?" Hyne asked, now honestly surprised. "How? No one survived temporal compression except Squall Leonhart and Ultimecia."

"That's right," Nash answered quietly, and then, he slowly reached up to the bandana wrapped around his forehead, and removed it, parting some his long brown hair as he did so. Hyne watched the motion, and then stopped suddenly as she saw through the open spot of his hair, and between his eyes.

Fire shot down the length of the cloth bundle, burning away the covering. When the charred remnants of the cloth dropped away, it revealed a long, broad silvery blade, the edge lined in dark red and tapering to a slightly curved point, married to the handle of a revolver. Etched on the side of the blade was a majestic, crouching lion, wings sprouting from its back.

And between Nash's eyes, running from the middle of his forehead down a little to the left of his nose, was a long scar.

"Let's put it this way," Nash explained as he hefted the modified Revolver in his right hand. "When time was initially compressed, there wasn't just one Squall Leonhart running around in that world. And when it was finally completely compressed, well, two Squalls living in the real world had to become one in the compressed one. And when it was uncompressed, both Squalls became . . . uncompressed, just the same."

The simmering flames surrounding Nash erupted into a full-fledged inferno, wreathing his body.

"A long time ago, I bore his name, back when I had friends, family, and a world that didn't teeter on the brink of collapse. I've fought across time itself, against Ultimecia and through a world you destroyed, Hyne! And now, here, I'm going to finish this!"

Nash launched himself at Hyne, blazing hellfire flaring around his gunblade, the Revolver of Squall Leonhart.

_"DIE!"_

* * *

"So, friend," said the smiling, bearded, purple-eyed old man as he sat across from Alucard, a thousand miles removed from the war blazing across the seas off the coast of Balamb. "We've gathered all of the pieces together here, and now we have to ask the billion dollar question. What's Hyne up to?" 

Alucard, seated across from his friend, leaned back. He quietly took a drink from his glass as he considered Ramuh's words.

"She backs Crell," he replied. "But why? What profit can she get from inciting this war? She revels in the destruction, but we both know her goal revolves around more than just simple death and havoc. She wants permanent annihilation."

"Hm." Ramuh thought for a moment, stroking his ever-waving beard. "Friend, the vibe I'm getting off this whole thing is just that; she's backing Crell out of amusement. Almost like she's biding her time."

"I agree," Alucard responded. "Hm. The only thing that we know Hyne directly assisted in with Crell's operations is the Elemental Project and its creations. Perhaps that was her goal all along?"

"Artificial Sorceress power," Ramuh mused, nodding. "But since that's just Guardian power put into a mortal, all that results are Elementals. Elementals are powerful, sure, but not powerful enough to do what she wants."

"Still, that may yet be her goal," Alucard replied. "To create an elemental powerful enough to achieve her objective."

"Well, then, she may be busted now," Ramuh answered. "She's already gotten the two most powerful Elementals now, what with Griever in Leonhart and Bahamut in his cousin."

"those were not her goal," Alucard said, shaking his head. he took another sip from his drink. "Hyne seemed very relaxed when we met, almost as if her goal had already been achieved. Squall and Illarra only became Elementals around the time we met, and I don't think she was aware they existed at that point."

"Which means it was a previously existing Elemental," Ramuh stated. "The only ones that count are that little girl Tilmitt, Nash, and . . . ."

Both Alucard and Ramuh blinked, and stared at each other, the answer right in their faces. The Guardian of Existence stood up immediately, narrowing his eyes.

"I have to leave, now," he stated. "This situation needs to be dealt with . . . immediately."

* * *

Quistis was up to her hips in reports and shouts, rapidly directing her forces to battle. In the previous engagement three years ago, they hadn't had this level of control over Garden's defense, but with so many more troops and better command technology and staff, she could more readily direct her forces into battle. SeeDs, cadets, and soldiers moved throughout Garden, battling Estharian soldiers at every juncture and breach. However, the influx of the new enemy forces was breaking through their defenses at various points, enemy troops flooding throughout Garden. It wouldn't be long until all of Balamb Garden was one chaotic warzone. 

Quistis did what she could to contain the breaches, redirecting reserve force to patch holes and shore up defenses, pulling overwhelmed troops back to secondary defense positions. The preparations they had made in case the Garden was being overwhelmed were working well, though; the Garden wasn't completely overrun and chaos hadn't gripped the entire building . . . yet.

Then, Quistis heard the worst news yet relayed.

"Quistis! The drive control room has been captured by enemy commandos!"

She stared unbelievingly at the technician who relayed the message, her skin paling. She didn't know how the enemy had gotten down there, but it didn't matter. If they had the drive room, they could sink the Garden with one well-placed explosive.

"Do we have any troops we can spare?" she demanded, looking at the Garden map immediately. Nearly the entire building was flashing red, indicating breaches and combat in every sector. They were holding . . . for now. But if she pulled off any troops to engage the enemy in the drive room . . . .

"Everyone who can fight is engaged!" answered another technician. Quistis blinked, not believing what she saw and heard, but they were right. Nearly every combat capable SeeD and soldier was shown on the map, engaging Estharian intruders. She saw a camera feed from the front gate, showing Zell surrounded by a hundred enemy soldiers, Elemental commandos. The brawler was hip deep in corpses as his army around him engaged the enemy, Zell pounding the Elemental troops with raging fury as they attacked him.

They didn't have anyone who could get to the drive room and stop the enemy.

Except . . . .

Quistis grabbed her whip on her belt, and turned toward the entrance.

"Order all troops to hold their positions and fall back to secondary defensive positions as needed!" Quistis ordered as she ran toward the entrance. "Local commanders take direct control of their troops and act at your own discretion!"

"Wait!" shouted an officer after her. "Where are you-"

"There's no one to spare who can take back that room!" Quistis replied over her shoulder as she charged out of the room, drawing her whip.

_No one but me . . . ._

* * *

Lionheart scraped along the hull of the Flying Fortress, Squall turning the blade as he buried it into the side of the structure, slowing his descent. He looked down, and spotted a ridge in the hull poking out from the apparently smooth metal. Setting his feet, he continued to drop until he reached the ridge, stopping on the small ledge. The Commander looked up at the sky overhead, and spotted what looked like an enemy muster bay about forty feet overhead. He coiled his feet beneath him, preparing to leap up, when he caught sight of a shape directly overhead. 

Illarra stood on the side of the ship, grinning. Her gunblade was buried in the metal, and she was balanced on the handle, staring down at the SeeD Commander below, hair flying wildly in the sea winds.

"This is amazing, Squall!" she shouted. "This sight you and I have! Its perfect! I can see everything, just like you!"

Squall didn't answer, instead drawing the Revolver with his left hand and holding both swords in his hands. He stared up at her with his eyeless gaze.

"You know, I have to thank you, Squall," she added, grinning ever more widely. "You opened my eyes, soI could cut them out and understand! When we fought in Trabia, I came to realize something. You were right!"

Squall watched her, suddenly becoming aware of energy rippling around her. He knew the power she was using . . . it was like a SeeD's Guardian Force summon. But something about this was different. It wasn't as if she was calling the GF to fight for her . . . .

It was as if she was calling it to _herself._

"My enemy," she whispered as the hill of the ship beneath them began to shake. "You revealed who my true enemy is, Squall!" She raised her hands into the sky, white light rising around her. Squall clenched his teeth, and then realized what she was doing.

"You . . . ." Squall whispered, and she laughed.

"Once this battle is over, Squall, I'm going to destroy my true enemy!" she screamed, throwing her head back as the light began to consume her. As he watched, her body became a blurry silouhette incased in the light, and she started screaming and cackling at the same time.

"My enemy, Squall . . . ."

Black wings erupted from her back.

"Its so simple . . . ."

A whipping, ridged tail shot out from her tailbone.

"And I can't believe I **didn't realize it . . . ."**

Her face contorted, scales and ridges shooting over her body as her expression elongated, her mouth transforming into a long lizard-like beak, her eyes growing back into blood red orbs. Bat-like, scaled wings flexed, and her arms stretched out, the skin replaced by scales and body ridges, fingers now sharpened claws. Her hair transformed into a mighty crest and horns stretching back over her elongating neck.

**"Humanity!"** Illarra thundered as she stared down at Squall, her draconic mouth widening in a smile.

_**So, she went and did it. Heh.**_

_She didn't just summon Bahamut . . . ._

_**Fusing with her bonded Guardian, fully invoking his power . . . this looks like it might just hurt, Squall . . . .**_

_You sound like you're going to enjoy this._

_**Indeed. I think I will . . . .**_

**"Humanity, Squall,"** Illarra repeated, laughing, her voice becoming the thundering, resounding declaration of the mighty Guardian Force, Bahamut.

**"Humankind is my enemy . . . . and once this battle is over, I'm going to burn a swath across this infested planet. I'm going to destroy it all! Every human life will be extinguished! This world will be _purged!"_**

"And Crell?"

**"Fuck him. He'll be first to die. Followed by the rest of this fleet, and then Balamb. Then . . . not sure where I'll go next."** She crossed her arms, and chuckled, vibrating the hull beneath Squall. **"I'll do you a favor, Squall. How about I kill all your friends quick, as a favor for you showing me how to get my revenge?"**

Squall firmed his jaw, and coiled his legs beneath him for a leap. He then slowly shook his head, his voice showing all the conviction his eyes would have spoken otherwise.

_"No."_

**"Have it your way, then,"** Illarra answered. She threw her head back, issuing a tremendous roar, and dove down at Squall. he tensed his muscles, and then leapt straight back at her, gunblades flying out wide as he dove into battle once more.

* * *

-

* * *

Whoo! That one came out fast! Another classic case of a chapter getting a lot longer than you expected it to be. This thing kept stretching on and on, and I knew that I would need to cut this chapter short of my original objective. I'm getting too ambitious for my own good... I had On-Winged Angel off the Advent Children soundtrack blaring asI finished this chapter. I think it fits, eh?

Next chapter, the battles intensify as Garden makes its last stand!

Also, I apologize if I haven't replied to everyone yet. been too busy writing. I should rectify that!

Until next chapter...


	27. XXVI: Noontide

_**Chapter 26: Noontide**_

She was huge, as large as the King of Guardians himself, Bahamut. That only made sense, considering she was invoking his full power to become the Guardian manifested, but Squall was undeterred as he shot up at her. She stretched out her wings, kicking off the Fortress and flying out in the open air, well over three times Squall's size.

A blue-white brand of fire and a silvery metal blade stabbed at her heart. Illarra snarled, rearing back as Squall hurtled up toward her, and whipped around, her tail slamming into Squall and launching him back toward the Flying Fortress. He crashed into the deck, metal rending and twisting beneath him, and she dove after the SeeD with inhuman speed, her wings flapping and sending her plummeting toward his position.

Squall shakily stood up, and then looked up in time to catch an uppercut to the jaw from her massive clawed hand, which knocked him up into the air. Before he could really register the hit, she slammed him again, straight down, and Squall crashed onto the top of the Fortress' domed ceiling. His body exploded in pain as she dropped down, driving one of her draconic legs into his stomach, and then leapt off. She touched down on the deck a short distance away, chuckling to herself.

**"Weak and pathetic, Squall,"** she stated, her words vibrating the hull. **"You know you can't win, don't you? Not without invoking Griever to reply to this raw, unmatched _power!"_**

"Never," Squall responded, shaking his head. He stalwartly refused to do that. To transform himself into the monster that ran through his veins . . . no, Squall completely denied that impulse.

**"Then you'll die,"** she replied off-handedly. "**And nothing will be able to stop my righteous vengeance. If you refuse to battle me as you know you have to, Squall . . . if you refuse to embrace your Elemental powers, then I'll have to crush you like the insect human you really are!"**

As she spoke, Illarra raised an arm and rushed at Squall, her hand shooting down at him. He sidestepped in an eye-blink, Lionheart stabbing across and into her hand as her arm rent into the metal, and she reared back, thundering a cry of pain. Even as her left hand retreated, though, her right shot down and grabbed Squall by his shirt and lifted him up. He flipped over the Revolver and made to stab it into her wrist, but she immediately shot that hand down and crushed him into the metal plating at her feet. Illarra raised a leg, snarling in rage and joy, and sent her foot crashing down at Squall's face.

That leg stopped, and she unleashed a shuddering screech of agony, when Squall raised both Lionheart and the Revolver, letting her impale her foot on the two blades. He grinned darkly, but before her could fire his weapons, she tore her foot free and flapped her wings, hurling herself away from him and into the air over the Fortress.

_**Idiot, you cannot fight her as you are!**_

_Piss off, Griever._

_**Invoke my power or you will be destroyed! As she is she's a class totally above you! Bahamut will rip you to pieces!**_

_No, Griever. I know why you want me to invoke you. Not going to happen._

_**You fool!**_

_Shut up, and let me handle this._

Light gathered in Illarra's mouth during the mental exchange, and Squall focused himself, channeling his emotions. This was not a limit break, but a simple redirection of his magical powers and the strength of an Elemental. The energy within Illarra's mouth grew stronger and brighter as Squall gripped his gunblades more tightly.

_**What are you**-_

_Didn't I tell you to shut up?_

Energy cascaded from Illarra's mouth, lancing out in a series of brilliant golden-white bolts that rained down at Squall. He stared up at the attack, and suddenly backflipped, evading the first falling bolt. What followed was an insane, impossible dance, as the SeeD dove forward, then skittered to the side, and somersaulted over the next series of blasts, the energy ripping into the top of the Fortress and piercing several decks below.

The last beam shot down at Squall as he hit the deck, and Lionheart cut across, a white glow erupting around the blue blade of crystallized energy. The beam from Illarra's breath weapon smashed into the gunblade, her blast and Squall's spirit clashing for a brief instant-

And the bolt shot back up at Illarra, batted up into the sky by Squall's indomitable willpower. The dragon above blinked once, caught off-guard, and then took the beam directly in the chest, energy flashing across her body. She was sent reeling for a moment, barely remaining airborne, so shocked was she by the impact.

Below, Squall nodded, smiling tightly.

_She has eyes._

That meant that Illarra, for all her power and strength in this form, had no Zanshin.

The transformed woman thundered in rage and looked down at Squall as he turned and ran along the length of the Fortress as fast as he could. Her mouth glowed again as she readied another attack, interpreting his retreat as one of fear or desperation. She didn't see Squall's determined face as he dashed across the roof of the warship, or knew what he was thinking, or the fact that he _wanted_ her to fire.

_That's it, Illarra. Fire away. Throw everything you've got at me. Make my job that much easier . . . ._

* * *

A Dollet soldier fell back a step, blood gushing from his chest as an Estharian cyborg tore his axe free with the crackling, fluid sound of bones being broken. The man hit the floor, dead, and the soldier who killed him followed a second later as Seifer rushed past, his saber severing the man's head. A cyborg rushed past Seifer, only to get smashed into the ground by a Galbadian war robot, which then plunged into the fray, arm-mounted machineguns blazing. Estharian plasma poured over the machine, melting armor and burning through electronics. 

White light cut past Seifer as he turned an enemy axe aside, Hyperion stabbing through the gap and biting at his opponent's lung. Serra's attack burned through two enemy soldiers, and Lex dove into the gap, katana flickering and resheathing, then repeating, cutting down another pair of the enemy. Bullets ripped past, swords, axes, and bayonets collided with sparking flashes and resounding impacts, war machines surged forward and were torn to pieces. Blood ran through the halls of Galbadia Garden as twelve thousand SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet defenders battled for every inch of ground against unending tides of Estharian invaders. The clashing cacophony of war filled the building's corridors and resounded off its walls, the ring of blade on blade, the explosions of grenades, rifles, and shotguns, the screams of the dying, cries of the wounded, and cheers of the victors all mingling in a din of chaos and carnage.

Seifer and his small group had withdrawn from the exterior and into the halls, only to find themselves rushing into another maelstrom of war as enemy troops swarmed into the upper levels. Galbadians, SeeDs, and Dollet troops battled the enemy in close combat, some battling with knives or hand-to-hand. With every passing second, more enemy troops, including lethal cyborg soldiers, stormed the upper floors. The garrisoned troops, the vast majority of them ordinary soldiers, could not match the sheer physical power of the enemy cyborgs. Discipline was rapidly fading in the tremendous melee battle raging through the second floor of the Garden.

The ex-cadet was trying to rally what men he could to his side, but his troops were dying as fast as they were forming up around him. For every enemy trooper that was killed another took their place, and for every Garden soldier that fell there were no reinforcements.

The only good news, at least, was that the enemy Elementals, what few they encountered, were in no condition to fight. Crell's elite troops were so used to their superhuman powers that when they found their strength suddenly ripped from them, they were disoriented and unable to defend themselves. Those Estharians who attempted to use any magic found themselves unable to cast spells.

Serra, on the other hand, was quite capable of using her magic, or rather, the magic of her Guardians, to wreak havoc on the enemy. White light lanced from Phoenix's wing, while shadow poured from Diablos', throwing down dozens of the enemy and clearing breathing room for many allied soldiers. Serra herself reached out with her mind toward her allies, willing them to be safe and protected, and many of them found a strange energy coursing over their bodies, magical barriers protecting them from harm and wounds slowly mending.

Seifer cut and blasted a path down a corridor, arriving at a intersection in the halls where a score of SeeDs and Galbadians had set up a strong, well-protected defensive position. Crouching behind barriers, they traded bullets and grenades with Estharian plasma, but at least here there seemed to be a degree of control and discipline. Seifer paused only for a moment to consult his radio, and his eyes widened.

"What is it?" Serra asked. Seifer's reply was cut off as Diablos raised a wing, blocking a plasma bolt flying at her chest, and Phoenix rippled forth, fire cutting down the offending enemy soldier. She was quickly pulled back behind cover by one of her bodyguards.

"Main courtyard's getting hammered hard," Seifer replied. He looked to her, and then to her bodyguards, and then nodded. "And the command deck is in trouble. They need someone out there to rally the troops before they get overrun! Look, Serra, you-"

"I'll stay here," she replied immediately. Seifer blinked, surprised she had understood his orders before he had even spoken them.

"Okay, right," he replied. "I'm heading for the main courtyard, see if I can back up the troops there! You help these guys hold position here, okay?" Serra nodded, and Seifer stood up. he took a deep breath, readied himself, and opened his mouth.

"Covering fire! I'm heading straight through!" The troops around him shouted an acknowledgement and intensified their fire for a moment, forcing the enemy to take whatever cover they could find, and slackening their shots. An instant later, Seifer shot around one of the barrier and raced down one of the enemy-occupied corridors, ripping into their ranks before they even realized he was there. he charged down the hall, blades flashing and flying out around him as he danced a brutal, vicious dance through the hallway, blood staining the walls, his blades, and his coat as he cleaved a road into the heart of Galbadia Garden.

* * *

"Pull all of our units back to secondary defensive positions!" General Randolph barked at his officers and technicians on Galbadia Garden's command deck. He turned his gaze up to the main screen overlooking the command center, and watched as every part of his garden started turning red, indicating enemy contact. The Estharians had taken the courtyards and were swarming into the lower levels, but the upper floors still held, barely. Casualty reports kept streaming in, detailing heavy losses in every area of the Garden. Close to two thousand men were dead, and the numbers were increasing. The fact that they were killing the enemy at a three to one ratio was not easing Randolph's worries; the Estharians could afford those losses, while the allied troops couldn't. 

"Sir, central courtyard is reporting heavy contact from front gate and Alpha corridor!" Randolph looked over the screen as the words came in, and shook his head. The enemy had cracked the defenses in the training and residential complexes on Galbadia Garden's starboard side, and chaos had taken those areas. The enemy was pushing deeper into the Garden, attacking the forward command center in the main courtyard. As it was, Kinneas' two thousand men in that area were barely able to fend off the attack from the main gate.

"Get B, C, E, and L companies to reinforce the main courtyard," Randolph ordered, and as the declaration was issued, close to a thousand troops in more lightly engaged areas of the Garden broke off and moved toward the main courtyard. Hopefully that would buy Kinneas some time.

A flash of light momentarily distracted Randolph, and he glanced out the front window of the command center, to see a fleet of aircraft dropping a small volley of missiles and a tremendous shower of machinegun fire on one of the docked Fortresses. Explosions ripped the hull of the ship and he saw hundreds of enemy soldiers shredded by the volley of gunfire, momentarily relieving the pressure coming from that ship. The Ragnarok swooped in, main cannon and autocannons pumping death into a mass of the enemy as they stormed toward the front gate.

While he appreciated Selphie's vigorous supply of air support, Randolph knew that they weren't going to be enough to put an end to the tide. His troops were going to have to fend for themselves until reinforcements could arrive . . . or Laguna could make his move.

"Sir, Corsair transports closing on the command deck!" shouted a technician, and Randolph looked back tot he main screen. He turned, scanning the length of the command deck, and nodded.

"Okay, people, we planned for this!" he shouted. "Issue final orders and give me a direct connection to the intercom, then begin evacuation!" Several of the officers blinked, shocked at the order, but Randolph stared at his men resolutely.

"Are my orders unclear, dammit!" he snarled. "Get moving!"

The technicians exploded into motion, grabbing documents and weapons and computers, while officers started rapidly speaking to the troops on the front lines. As his men moved, Randolph looked out the front window, and saw a dozen enemy transports swooping toward the command deck. Without a word, the General strode across the deck, toward one of several caches of weapons that he'd had placed in case the command deck was stormed. Calmly, he hefted one of the double-barreled rocket launchers Dollet soldiers had a preference for, and loaded it, before grabbing four additional rockets. Resting the weapon on his shoulder, he strode into the middle of the command deck, staring out the window at the enemy as they closed in. His radio chirped as several men hurried out of the command deck, the rest rushing to follow.

The pilot hurried down from his control pylon, and started to run past Randolph, but paused as he saw his commander not budging. The General looked over at the SeeD, and gestured at the doorway with his head.

"Get out of here, son," he ordered. "I'll hold them off."

The pilot looked like he was about to protest, but then nodded.

"Aye sir!" he replied firmly, and hurried out of the room, pausing only to grab a sackful of ammunition and an extra rifle. As he left the room with the last of the officers, Randolph pressed his left hand to his ear, raising his launcher in his right.

"Attention, all personnel," Randolph stated calmly. "Be advised, command deck has been breached by the enemy."

Plasma stuttered down from the transports, slamming into the glass and melting it, opening holes. The Corsairs began to rotate, opening their troop bays, the two closest angling in to drop their cargo.

The rocket launcher kicked, a dull _whoomph!_ resounded across the deck, and the first missile shot directly into the troop bay, blasting every Estharian inside into ribbons and bloody mist, and sending the transport skipping through the air, spiraling down uncontrollably toward the mass of enemy troops below.

"As you can tell from the noise," Randolph continued. "I don't have time for an inspirational speech."

His launcher fired a second time, and the next transport followed suit, hurled away, with body parts hurtling into the air.

"Therefore, I have one simple order for every man and woman still standing and fighting." The sounds of Randolph loading the last pair of rockets into the launcher were likely audible over the radio.

"Hold you positions! Stand together!" Randolph shouted, raising the launcher to his shoulder again. He sighted another Corsair as it came in, and punched a missile straight through its cockpit, the explosion ripping out the backside of the ship.

"Use every weapon you have! Give every enemy soldier a belly full of lead and pool of their own blood to drown in! Stand firm and make the enemy scream and bleed and die! Let the only cover your foes have be their stacked corpses you've piled up in the halls and rooms!"

His final missile lanced out, striking another Corsair in the middle of its anti-gravity system, causing the transport to plummet straight down, into the enemy gathered below. The general dropped his rocket launcher and drew his rifle, turned and walking back toward the doorway into the command deck. With his left hand, he reached into his vest and pulled out an object.

"Protect your comrades," he stated quietly. "Hold your positions. Kill the enemy. That is my last order. Stand strong, and we'll live through this day, people."

Estharian boots hit the deck behind Randolph as he stood in the doorway to the command deck, and turned around, a tight smile on his face. He watched the enemy rush through the room, some surprised no one was in the command deck, others pointing weapons at the officer. The paused, however, when they saw what he was holding.

"Randolph out," he said, and depressed the trigger on the radio detonator. The doors automatically slammed shut, sealing the enemy inside the command deck, and then the charges Randolph had planted earlier that day went up.

The entire command center for Galbadia Garden erupted in a titanic fireball that hurled debris, flaming Corsair transports, and the charred, shattered pieces of the enemy into the sky over Balamb.

Randolph dropped the detonator to the floor, cracked his neck, and hefted his assault rifle. He turned, and hurried down the hallway, looking for his next battle.

* * *

The gunblade came up an inch short, the fires blazing around the Revolver vanishing as Hyne simply willed them to not be. She cocked her head to the side, smiling, clearly amused, as Nash withdrew and launched a stream of fire from his left hand, the heat snuffed out before it even touched Hyne. 

"Hm. I didn't think people could cross over timelines . . . . temporal mechanics are most interesting."

Nash didn't respond, instead rushing forward again, an inferno rippling out from his body and blazing toward Hyne as he leapt at her, swinging with a guttural roar of rage. She looked up at the blade as it fell, and raised a hand, catching the sword on her bare palm. As soon as the blade stopped, she pointed her other hand at Nash, and sent him flying across the room once more.

The Elemental tumbled through the air, but managed to right himself as he flew backwards. Searing heat shot from beneath him, the pulsing flames blasting him forward, canceling out the force behind Hyne's blast and sending him hurtling back at her, the blazing heat from his gunblade searing the paint off a tank as he shot past-

Hyne caught Nash by the front of his jacket and, with a mocking giggle like an amused child, spun around and _spiked_ Nash directly into the hull beneath her, sending him bouncing up off the metal and into another tremendous bolt of magic. Nash crashed into the wall on the far side of the chamber and flopped to the floor, groaning.

"This is fun," she said, clearly amused. "I haven't had an actual fight like this in ages. And the fact that you're so angry . . . ."

"You haven't seen me pissed off yet, bitch," Nash snarled, standing up shakily. He raised the Revolver, and pointed the tip at Hyne. She watched the motion, and noted the red edge of the weapon, the razor-sharp, crimson tip standing out distinctively against the silver metal. Nash's features contorted, the muscles of his face tightening as he opened his mouth, letting out a thundering roar of anger.

"You look constipated," Hyne remarked as amber light shot up around the Elemental, the precursor to a Limit technique. Hyne watched, detached and amused, as white light shot down around the gunblade, wreathing the weapon in a shining aura of energy. Nash took the weapon in both hands as waves of power rippled through the deck around him. The amber light faded, and the shining, glimmering gunblade remained.

"And this accomplished . . . ?" she asked. Nash narrowed his eyes as he stared at Hyne.

"I saw myself use this technique a long time ago," he stated. "Pumping all your fury and rage into a beam of light surrounding your weapon. I saw what that attack could do." Nash dropped into a crouch, the Revolver held out before him.

"That power killed Griever," he explained. "It destroyed him, utterly and completely. That kind of power was what I had been looking for, for so long, Hyne. The strength of that tremendous technique, that move that left a blasted zone, tearing through all of Ultimecia's castle and destroying that which is immortal. I made this gunblade to harness that power, and I focused that strength into this refined form."

Nash met Hyne's eyes, and she understood what he meant.

"That energy," she whispered, an excited smile creeping across her face. "That blade can kill anything."

"Even you, Hyne," Nash replied. Without another word, he jetted forward, flames pulsing behind him and hurling the Elemental at his opponent. He cocked the blade back over his shoulder, his body flashing with raging flames as he closed in with Hyne once more. The shining gunblade chopped forward at her head, slicing in unerringly . . . and slowed right as it neared her, the energy in Nash's swing sapped by Hyne's powers. Even so, she quickly drifted back and down, dropping beneath the blade as it swooshed past her head. Nash stopped the sword and sent his gunblade in a backhand chop, dropping it lower. Hyne scooted backward, floating back across the bay and out of range of the blade, but only for an instant, as Nash pursued.

His blade chopped at her again, and a fourth time, each stroke slowing as it neared her and allowing Hyne all the time she needed to drift away, almost effortlessly, he feet never touching the floor as she evaded every cut. Her mocking giggles filled the chamber, further enraging Nash as he hacked away at her, his flames causing metal surrounding the pair to deform.

He charged in with a straightforward thrust, the blade cutting over Hyne's head as she ducked, and then sent the blade down and low, chopping at her knees. She drifted upward, over the blow, and then back quickly as Nash reversed momentum and sent the Revolver flying upward, trying to cleave her in half. The blade fell short, the slowed swing passing right before Hyne.

Then, as the gunblade cut past, she shot in behind the swing and planted both hands against Nash's chest. A flash of light filled the room, and the Elemental stood stock-still, eyes wide, smoke issuing from where Hyne had struck. He took a stumbling step backward, almost losing his balance, but stopped standing shakily. His left hand touched his chest, where the smoking wounds Hyne had inflicted had charred his vest and shirt and burned the skin underneath, and the stared at her, hatred burning in his eyes.

Screaming another enraged roar, Nash shot ahead with an impossibly fast swing, the blade slowing even as it started falling toward Hyne. She started drifting backward, but Nash rushed ahead even as he was swinging, keeping her in range. The blade fell toward her, the blazing light of Nash's vengeance falling toward her, and then he hit the deck, launched across the room by another effortless beam of energy.

However, as the Elemental slowly stood up, a new round of aches and burns assaulting him, he saw the small, innocent-looking girl touching her right arm with her left hand, and staring at the Elemental with baleful eyes.

Silvery vapors trailed from her right bicep, between her small finger, drifting into the air. Nash recognized the vapors for what they really were, and grinned sadistically as he stood, readying the blade in his hands.

Hyne was bleeding.

"Well-struck," she snarled, and Nash chuckled, twirling the glowing blade in his hands before settling into another crouch.

"Trust me, you haven't begun to see what this can do," he replied. "And I'm not going to stop at making you bleed out your magic, Hyne. I'm gonna put this blade right through your gut and watch you _scream_ just like all the people you and Ultimecia murdered-"

Nash's threat was silenced when Hyne raised a hand and sent a column of white light at the Elemental, the beam blasting him backward across the chamber and straight through the wall of the muster bay.

* * *

Irvine pumped another shell into his shotgun and fired a blast, the heavy 10-guage round that blasted forth ripping half of an enemy soldier's head off and sending him tumbling to the floor. The sharpshooter pivoted, firing another blast to his left, cutting down another charging foe, and then to his right, destroying a cyborg as it dove after one of his comrades. The shotgun ran empty at that moment, and he dropped the weapon, pulling out an AB-10 machine pistol as several foes charged him. The pistol scythed across their ranks, cutting them all down in a shower of steel and blood, and Irvine ejected the magazine and rapidly reloaded. Another foe rushed at him the middle of his reload, and he snapped out a revolver and plugged the enemy soldier twice in the chest, sending him to the blood-soaked floor. 

Surrounding the sharpshooter, the combined SeeD and Galbadian force protecting the central courtyard rapidly found itself being surrounded and pressed from all sides. An unending horde of Estharian troops pressed the defense at the front gate, and two of the corridors leading into the courtyard were compromised, with hundreds more of the enemy pressing their forces there. Estharians were flooding the lower floors and assaulting the upper levels; the balcony ringing the central courtyard saw heavy fighting as the enemy sought to overwhelm the soldiers providing covering fire up top and shoot down into the defenders below. men were falling left and right, hacked and beaten and blasted, the iron-hard discipline of SeeD and Galbadian and Dollet forces faltering beneath the enormous press of enemy attackers. Slowly, little by little, fallen soldier by fallen soldier, the defenses were crumbling. Even when a thousand reinforcements stormed the room through the only remaining uncompromised corridor, it simply seemed a momentary respite for the defense.

The enemy cyborgs were tearing their regular, unjunctioned forces apart, and the Estharian regulars were deadly opponents themselves. With the defenses in the corridors being overwhelmed and open fighting raging across the floor, Irvine's three thousand troops were suffering badly, rapidly dwindling in the face of overwhelming enemy odds.

The sharpshooter blasted through a dozen of the enemy, loading an AP round into his rifle and firing it into the thickest concentration, but the gap was instantly filled by more seemingly suicidal enemy troops. Charging on with screams of "Sorceress slaves!" and the like, the Estharian troops drove in, assaulting an enemy they believed served a terrible foe and threat to their survival. Irvine fired away as rapidly as he could, reloading when he had a chance, cutting down scores of the enemy with his weapons, but he knew that he was rapidly being overwhelmed. The enemy pressed in around him as the defenses were failing, many of his comrades buried under the enemy advance in a cloud of blood and the clashes of blades. He moved to reload a revolver, and then was sent reeling tot he floor at the end of a cyborg's shoulder.

The Estharian warrior towered over Irvine, raising his axe for a finishing blow. The sharpshooter grabbed a pistol at his belt, raising it as fast as he could, but even then, knowing he wouldn't get the weapon up in time.

Then the cyborg's head was impaled on the end of a pair of blades as Seifer Almasy dropped from above like a blood-stained guardian angel. He landed behind the Estharian, yanking his blades hard, and tore the machine's head clean off, flinging it at another foe and knocking him to the ground.

Irvine was up in an instant, plugging an enemy soldier that dove at Seifer's back, while the ex-knight's blades cut and struck down two more foes directly before him. He whirled around, severing a head with a backhanded stroke of his saber, while Irvine's next shot went over the knight's shoulder, snapping an enemy head back as the round went between his insectile faceplate's eyes.

With the pair rapidly covering each other, they were able to drive back the enemy attacking them momentarily, and start falling back toward allied lines. Within a matter of moments, the two warriors managed to find themselves surrounded by SeeDs and Galbadians once again. The soldiers surrounding the pair took heart at the arrival of their commanders and fought on more ferociously, driving the enemy back and holding on hard. Irvine and Seifer piled a small wall of corpses around them as the battle raged on.

"Prepare to fall back!" Seifer ordered over the din of the warzone.

"What?" Irvine asked, and as he reloaded one of his weapons, he saw what Seifer had meant, even as a SeeD nearby fell tot he floor, riddled with plasma burns. The upper balconies were being overrun, the defenders up above fully engaged with enemy soldiers who kept swarming in. Already several positions had been swept away, and Estharians were firing plasma weapons down into the defenders. With the enemy holding the high ground up above and firing down on the embattled soldiers below, they couldn't hold.

"Move everyone back toward the inner hallway!" Seifer ordered at the top of his lungs. "Get them back tot he main corridor! We can hold them off in there!"

The army started to fall back, tightly constricting itself into a solid semicircular wall, guns and blades all pointing outward and holding the enemy back as their troops began to the retreat toward the one remaining uncompromised corridor out of the courtyard. If they could get inside, they'd be able to stem the tide of the advancing horde and hold out for a far longer time.

A torrent of blue-white explosions resounded behind them, however, silencing that hope. Even as Seifer and Irvine were becoming aware of the detonations, they heard a shout of "Estharians behind us! Rear flank!"

Enemy troops flooded out of the main corridor, assaulting the SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet defenders along their backside, forcing many troops to whirl to face the unending enemy legions.

Plasma fire from up above intensified, and the Estharians, sensing victory at hand as they encircled their enemy, pressed on harder, seeking to bury the Garden defenders under their overwhelming numbers.

* * *

They had cut the power to the elevator. Well, that wasn't going to slow Quistis down. She stood over the lower maintenance panel for the stalled elevator car, pointed a hand at the floor, and let a bolt of magic blast it open. Then, without a second's hesitation, she dropped through the hole, plunging into the gap and plummeting down the elevator shaft. 

"Sir, something exploded up there!" one of the men reported, and Malachi nodded, walking into the elevator shaft.

"They're coming," he stated calmly.

"Ready rifles!" shouted one of the soldiers, but Malachi shook his head.

"No, they're not stupid enough to use the ladders to climb down," he told them. "They're dropping straight down the shaft from the upper levels."

"That's-"

"Suicide?" Malachi snorted. "These are Balamb SeeDs, just as tough as you guys are. They can live through a drop from that height." Malachi then grinned, and set his feet beneath him, coiling them for a jump. "But let's see if they can survive me."

Air blasted against Quistis' face as she plummeted, rante coiled in her hands but ready to strike. She stared straight down as she dropped through the shaft, orange service lights flashing past her. Below, something moved, shooting directly up at her, moving into her path. She snapped her whip out and waited a split second as the shape below her - now recognizable as a powerfully built Estharian soldier - drew closer, and then lashed out. The rante shot down at her opponent, and rang against something metal, and then they flew past each other. She swung her whip out, catching it on a pipe along the wall, and her opponent grabbed the wall, hanging on the service ladder just above her.

"Trepe," snarled the man, and Quistis looked up, to see Malachi holding the ladder just above her, knife in hand. He stared down at her. "Didn't expect you of all people to come charging down here for a fight," he whispered.

Her response was to send her whip flying up at Malachi. The Elemental cut across with his knife, catching the blade of the rante on his weapon, and his left arm shot forward, grabbing the whip by its chain. With a right grin, he spun, swing the captured whip over his head and pulling Quistis along. Before she even realized what he had done, Malachi used his insane physical strength to send her slamming into the metal wall directly above here he stood.

Yanking the whip a second time, he sent her careening downward in the opposite direction, toward the wall beneath him. She shot down the shaft at the end of the captured chain, but an instant before she hit the wall, Quistis got her feet under her and planted them against the wall. Malachi managed a blink of surprise before she tugged right back, spinning and sending him slamming into the shaft on the opposite side. He hit hard, denting the metal, and released the whip, catching another pipe in his hand. Quistis snapped the whip over her head and sent it flying at him again, but he twisted around and brought his feet up over the striking blade.

The whip lodged into the wall, and Malachi set his feet atop the blade. With a sneer, he released the bar he was holding and slid down the whip for an instant, then hopping into a dive, angling his knife to stab it into Quistis' face.

With a flick of her wrist, she tore the whip free, while at the same time dropping from her perch and plummeting beneath Malachi. Quistis snapped her whip up at the Elemental, as she fell, the blade lodging in his chest, and before he could blink, she whirled around, flicking her whip straight down. A searing pain shot through the Elemental's chest as he was yanked around and sent hurtling down that shaft at the end of Quistis' whip.

A second later, Malachi impacted solidly with the bottom of the shaft, sending shockwaves through the metal. He coughed, spitting up purple blood, and started to stand up.

His back exploded in agony, and he felt something give as a pair of booted feet crashed into his lower back. Malachi slumped tot he floor, shocked and hurting and out of the fight, as Quistis hopped off him.

"Now," she whispered to him. "Why are you down here?"

Malachi let out a groan of pain, but Quistis, ears unusually sharp and alert, realized halfway through the moan that he was covering up the sound of bootsteps closing in behind her. Whirling around, Quistis snapped up her whip, the blade driving into the chest of a charging Elemental soldier, blood gushing from his chest. the man fell back, pulling the blade from his torso, and raised a plasma rifle.

Quistis was the faster of the two, invoking her Blue Magic and sending shining bolts of light from her eyes into the man's chest, burning twin holes in his armor and sending the Elemental reeling. More of the enemy special forces rushed up to intercept Quistis as she drove her whip against her first foe again, the blade stabbing into the side of his head and sending him tot he floor, where he lay still and unmoving. She whirled to face more of the enemy as they closed in.

Then she found her breath choked off as an arm wrapped around her throat, pulling her back. She started to struggle against Malachi, but the Elemental officer, his wounds already healing, planted his knife against her throat, stopping her cold.

"Check him," he ordered his men. One of the Elementals looked over the downed soldier, and shook his head.

"Hm, you killed one of my men, Trepe," he mused. "Not bad." Quistis didn't answer, her mind racing as she tried to find a way out of this situation.

"There may be more coming in behind her," snarled another soldier, and Malachi nodded.

"We can use her as a hostage," another suggested, but Malachi shook his head vehemently.

"We're not cowards," he snapped. "You disgrace yourself by even suggesting we use a human shield!"

"Then what do we do with her?" the man replied. "If we can't use her as a shield-"

"Then she's not useful to us," Malachi replied coldly.

Quistis realized the finality of Malachi's words an instant before he drew the cold metal of his blade across her throat.

* * *

Serra cradled a wounded soldier in her hands as she retreated down the corridor, Phoenix rippling into existence behind her and firing a bolt at the enemy that was pursuing them down the hallway. A dozen SeeDs and soldiers were lining the hall behind them, providing cover fire as the rear guard as the troops in this section of the Garden fell back. 

"Retreat!" came a shout from the officer who had ordered the pull-back, who Serra recognized as General Randolph. He fired his weapon at the advancing enemy, cutting them down alongside his fellow soldiers as he lead the rear-guard action.

"Fall back to the dorms complex and hole up there!" Plasma sizzled toward Serra as she hurried down the hall, but Diablos deflected the bolt instantly. More shots flew past, and one of the soldiers behind them went down. Wasting not even an instant, Randolph grabbed the downed soldier with one arm, slung him across his shoulder, and fired his rifle one-handed.

"Grenades out!" Randolph ordered, and his troops hurled their grenades down the corridor, the bombs detonating amidst the charging enemy. The explosion bought the retreating forces enough time to run down the hallway toward the next sector of the Garden, and through a pair of heavy security doors. The doors hissed shut and locked as they passed through, and Serra set down her wounded charge, the man's blood still on her hands. A medic hurried over to take care of the wounded soldier.

"Set up positions and cover that door!" Randolph ordered. "And get these wounded patched up and out of here!" He turned to one of his men. "What's the status in the rest of Garden?"

"We're heavily engaged across the whole Garden," answered an officer. "Nearly every sector has been breached, and all of our secondary defenses are being overrun. We can't hold much longer!"

"We're gonna fucking hold!" Randolph snarled. "No one ever kicked ass by saying they can't! What about the courtyard? How are Seifer and Kinneas doing?"

"They've been cut off, sir," the officer replied. "Enemy forces breached the corridors leading into the courtyard and have them surrounded, and have almost taken the balcony overlooking the courtyard."

"Dammit!" Randolph snarled, slamming a fist against the wall, ignoring the subsequent pain.

"Wait, did you say Seifer and Irvine were trapped in there?" Serra asked, and the officer nodded.

"They've got over ten thousand men storming that room from every direction," he explained. "There's no way we can get our troops through that."

"But we can't just let them die!" Serra protested, looking to Randolph. The general shook his head, punching the wall again.

"That idiot had to go diving into battle headfirst . . . ." he muttered.

"Can't you help him?" Serra pleaded, and Randolph looked up at her, anger and something else, some other emotion Serra couldn't identify mixed into his eyes.

"I would if I could!" he responded. "My army can't break through that kind of defense! Every soldier in the Garden is fighting right now for their lives! Nothing I have and no one here can save those men in that courtyard." Randolph slammed the wall again in anger.

Serra watched him, her own desperation growing. Seifer was in danger at that moment, and there was no way to save him. he had nearly died to stop Diablos from possessing her, and now she stood there, on the other side of the structure, unable to help him.

"They're breaching the door!" came a shout, and Serra looked over, to see white sparks flying from the security door. Randolph looked up, his face shifting to one of cold determination. he shouldered his rifle as he looked at the doorway.

"Stand by!" he ordered. "Set the table! Prepare to fire!" the men scramble dup around him, leveling their weapons at the doorway. Serra watched their movements, and knew from the way they carried themselves that many of these soldiers realized they were going to die in the next few minutes. She saw them steel themselves, preparing to meet death head-on, some trembling in fear. Serra also saw that every man was starting to lose something in their eyes, something essential: _hope_.

This scene, she knew, was being repeated all throughout the Garden. Every soldier and SeeD fighting for their lives, killing and dying without hope of defeating the enemy that stood before them. There was no escape from this Estharian juggernaut. They knew, every one of them, that they were all going to die before the day ended.

That thought sent something through Serra, an emotion, a sense of anger and a feeling of injustice. These men didn't need to die today. They had their own lives to live, lives they were bravely giving up in the hope of defeating the invading force of Esthar.

No! She wasn't going to let that happen! Seifer, Irvine, Randolph, everyone here, she had to protect them!

Randolph had fought beside SeeDs before, and he knew what was happening when an amber light surged around Serra as her emotions continued building. His eyes widened as Serra let her emotions rise up, empowering her body and soul.

A black wing erupted from he left shoulder, and a glowing red and gold one from her right. The two wings swept out wide as a cascading black and white light shot up and down her body. The soldiers surrounding her had to shield their eyes as the blazing brilliance filled the corridor.

The door exploded inward, and a legion of Estharians rushed forward, axes raised, prepared for another lethal charge. Their boots pounded the floor as they swarmed forth.

White light and black shadow fell upon them, and a shimmering streak of blazing energy lanced down the corridor. Every Estharian on the left fell to the floor, the life ripped from their bodies. Every man on the right simply collapsed into charred bone and ash as fire cut through them.

Randolph watched as the blaze of light, a furious angel of death that had an instant before been a harmless girl tear through the hallways. She flashed through the passages, burning through every Estharian she encountered. She cut through contested regions, her fire and shadow smiting the Estharian invaders and yet not even touching the Garden defenders, even those engaged in hand-to-hand combat. More than one SeeD or soldier grappling with an enemy soldier found their hands holding a suddenly lifeless corpse or floating ash and charred bone.

Seifer, in the central courtyard, crossed blades with an Estharian cyborg as Irvine frantically reloaded behind him. His three thousand men had been reduced to less than a thousand battered survivors gathered into a tight circle, fighting for their lives. A sea of Estharians surged against the island they formed, and plasma fire stuttered down from up above as the enemy on the balconies pumped shot after shot into the defenders.

Seifer knew, even as he cut down another foe, that the battle was over. The Estharians were going to bury them in a sea of bloody shotaxes and burning plasma, and the only thing they could do was stack the enemy's corpses up as high as they could before the end.

_Always thought I would die this way . . . ._ he mused. Behind him, Irvine kept firing, more desperate to get out of this battle, yet also acutely aware of their inevitable doom.

_Selphie . . . sorry it had to be this way. Keep on living without me, okay?_

However, those thoughts ended a second later as the rear corridor became a shimmering passage of light, and a shape flew out of the hallway, leaving corpses and charred bodies behind. It flew directly over the heart of the embattled, surrounded defenders and stretched out its arms and wings. Estharians raised their rifles, but couldn't fire on the angelic being, their eyes blinded by the brilliance of its light.

The angel of death looses a scything torrent of fire and shadow, blasting down into the Estharian hordes, perfectly tearing into their ranks with beams of ripping and destroying energy. Bolts of light swept over the balconies, evaporating Estharian soldiers and sizzling between the surviving defenders with surgical precision. The light within the chamber brightened to eyes-hurting levels, and the Garden defenders looked away, shielding their eyes, as the angel rained death and annihilation on the enemy surrounding them. The fire and shadow extended beyond, racing up the corridors and even blasting outside, ripping a terrible swath of divine punishment across Galbadia Garden.

Then, the light faded, and all that remained in the courtyard were Garden's soldiers. they looked up at the being above them, awed by the raw destructive power as burnt ash drifted through the air around them, and saw a young woman hovering overhead, but only for an instant. She toppled forward, dropping toward the floor, and the SeeDs and soldiers quickly caught her before she hit. They gently set her down with shocked reverence.

The crowd of soldiers parted as Seifer and Irvine pushed through them, and saw Serra's unconscious body laying at the heart of the ring of soldiers who had, moments before, been doomed.

Ten thousand Estharians had been burned to ash or had their lifeforces snuffed out in under a minute.

* * *

Crell stood in the command deck, dimly aware of the rushing wind outside his office, seeping through the shattered glass window behind his desk. he didn't pay much attention to that, however, as he looked at the holographic displays scattered around his office, showing the progress of the battle. It was rather disconcerting to see such astoundingly high casualty figures, and just seconds before, ten thousand Estharian troops had suddenly had their IF transponders vanish, as if the men had been just annihilated in a matter of moments. An entire Fortress' worth of men, just gone. 

_That seems to be the norm for today,_ he mused. Five entire Fortresses destroyed, with heavy casualties among his men elsewhere. But even so, his men were pressing on, and had the enemy drastically outnumbered, and would soon overwhelm the Garden defenders with sheer numbers. It was going to be hell trying to take care of this with the media corps back home, though.

"Brave leader," came a comment from behind Crell, and the dictator whirled, eyes widening, as he heard a voice he'd never expected.

"Loire!" he snarled, seeing the true President of Esthar standing behind him, in full combat gear, with his assault rifle in hand. Laguna Loire stared at Crell, anger and resentment in his eyes as he looked over the man who had usurped his government.

"Brave man, sitting back here in the heart of your base and watching thousands of men die for you, huh?" Laguna asked. Crell snorted as he looked over the President, and noted that, while he was holding his rifle, it was at his side. Calmly, Crell drew his own plasma pistol, but did not raise the sidearm. Laguna watched the motion, but didn't move to raise his own weapon.

"The true commander never enters the battle by himself," Crell replied. "I'm too valuable, for who will lead Esthar through these troubling times if I die now?"

"Nothing but a coward," Laguna snorted. "How many Estharians have died out there today? How many Garden soldiers have fallen fighting off those men who you've sent to their deaths?"

"At last count, fifty thousand in destroyed Fortresses annihilated at Rinoa's hands, plus another ten thousand that just died a few moments ago. Coupled with another ten thousand killed on various other battles in Balamb and Galbadia Garden, we're looking at seventy thousand Estharian soldiers killed in this battle, and I'm guessing about seven to ten thousand more Garden troops have been killed as well."

Laguna stared at Crell, shocked at the absolutely casual and emotionless way he reported that staggering number of deaths.

"Are these men nothing but cannon fodder to you?" he asked, and Crell chuckled.

"You could say that," he answered.

"And the worst part is that none of them know why they're really fighting," Laguna muttered. he jabbed his left hand at Crell accusingly. "You've lied to them, lied to the entire country!"

"These Estharian fools are too trusting," Crell replied, nodding. "They'll believe anything someone in their oh-so-perfect government will tell them. Sorceress Rinoa, responsible for assassinating the President and overthrowing the governments of the west and using Garden as her personal vanguard. Ludicrous! I'm amazed these fools believed me!"

"Because they wouldn't follow your real ideology," Laguna answered, and Crell laughed.

"No Estharian would follow an Adelist's commands if they knew who I was. Nor would they ever follow Virago, the worst criminal and scientist in Adel's regime. I find it ridiculously amusing that all of Esthar is rallied behind the one man that is vilified in the entire country."

"This whole war has been caused by a remnant of Adel's regime," Laguna hissed shaking his head. "A lie created by a murder and a war criminal who's turned my nation into a puppet for world conquest."

"Esthar is better without you, Laguna," Crell stated calmly. he grinned, and then shrugged. "Too bad you don't have the good sense to die in the first assassination I arranged. But now-"

He snapped up his pistol faster than Laguna could react, and fired three shots. The bolts struck Laguna dead center in the chest.

"-I get to fix that . . . problem?"

Crell trailed off as the bolts went right through Laguna's body, striking the wall behind him. The President suddenly smiled.

"Oh, hey, I forgot! I hacked your holographic controls. I'm not really here, Crell. Not that stupid."

The dictator stared at Laguna for a second, gnashing his teeth in frustration.

"Also, one more thing," Laguna added, as if he'd almost forgotten to mention this. "I didn't just hack your holographic controls. I also hacked into the communications system and sent a fleet wide transmission to the entire Estharian military. And I also used your secure comms system to connect back to Esthar through the communications blackout you imposed. And from there I patched into the entire Estharian communications network."

Laguna's smile widened across his face.

"This entire conversation was just sent to every radio, com-link, holographic projector, and nearly every other electronic media device connected to the main Estharian communications network. Which means that everyone in Esthar, plus every soldier and sailor out here, has just heard you confess that you've just lied to the entire country, attempted to kill me, and taken this nation on a false war against an innocent Sorceress."

* * *

Zell Dincht stood atop a pile of broken corpses, with over fifty elite Elemental soldiers stacked up around him. the brawler was covered in blood, with maroon and crimson fluid splattered across his entire body. The berserk spell had started to wear off as the enemy had surrounded him again. 

then, suddenly, the entire Estharian army stopped in place, the soldiers frozen, as if listening to something. they started looking to one another, whispering and talking, and several officers rushed out.

"Hold positions!" they ordered. "Stand down! Stand down!"

Zell wasn't the brightest fighter in Garden, but he knew what was happening, and he waved his hands at the confused SeeDs, repeating the order.

* * *

Seifer was cradling Serra, checking her breathing and vitals, which were, to his relief, normal. She lay back on the floor, dazed and almost unconscious at the exertion of her power. 

A shout from one of the SeeDs caught his attention, and he knew that the enemy was coming at them for another charge. Grimly determined to beat the enemy back and withdraw his men, he rushed to the front of his army, readying Hyperion and his saber.

however, when he reached the front of the army and prepared to give orders, he stopped, seeing the Estharian troops, who had been charging in anew moments before, standing at the front gate, milling about in confusion.

Instantly, Seifer pumped his fists into the air, knowing what was happening. Behind him Irvine did the same.

"He did it!" Seifer shouted.

"Laguna pulled it off!" Irvine added.

A resounding cheer shot through the battered army an instant later as the soldiers and SeeDs realized what the pair meant, and that the war had suddenly come to a screeching halt.

* * *

Crell stared at Laguna, looking as if he had been hit over the head by a chair. The hologram of Laguna stood there, grinning, and set his rifle down on the floor. 

"There's a saying one particular member of SeeD would have for this specific moment," Laguna said. He then pointed both hands at Crell, index fingers extended, and smiled as wide as he possibly could.

_"Owned, bitch!"_

The look on Crell's face was one of absolute anger, hatred, and indignation. that look, however, was changed an instant later as Laguna spoke once more.

"Now, since everyone can hear me loud and clear," Laguna said. "This is Laguna Loire, President of Esthar, sending a communication to all Estharian military forces in the Balamb region. I have one simple order for you." He stared at Crell, his wide grin becoming a tight smile, that of a man about to lay a long-deserved justice on his foe.

"Take Crell Varines down. Alive or dead, it doesn't matter."

* * *

"Sir?" asked one of Malachi's elementals as he wiped his knife, stepping over Quistis' sprawled body. The man looked up at his commander, and from the sound of his voice, things weren't going well. 

"What is it?" he asked as a burst of static filled the room for a moment.

"Very bad news, sir," the Elemental explained. "We've been made."

"What do you-" Malachi began, but then his eyes widened. "Wait, what? We've been exposed?"

"Loire just managed to trick the President into confessing on a live worldwide broadcast," the Elemental responded. Malachi snarled.

"Shit!" He sheathed his sword, his face scrunching up in anger and furious contemplation. "This is bad. Very bad. Okay. The bomb's been set, so get everyone back to the sub. We've got to initiate the fallback plan and get the President out of here before the entire Estharian army falls down on him."

The Elementals nodded, and they hurried out of the room, rushing through the passages leading out of the MD Level. Malachi moved to follow, and then paused, glancing back at Quistis' corpse.

Metal rang against metal as he drew his blade entirely on instinct, blocking the blade of a snapping rante.

Malachi stared in shock as Quistis stood where she had fallen, whip in hand, the blood that should have been pouring out of her slit throat nowhere to be found. The cut he had inflicted was gone, a faint white line slashing across her throat the only sign he'd hurt her.

"How the hell-" Malachi began, but as Quistis retracted her whip, she dropped something, a radio. The soldier's eyes widened as he realized what that burst of static moments before had been. She'd alerted the forces in the Garden!

Several shapes dropped down the shaft behind her, landing at the bottom of the elevator shaft with weapons ready. With the battle up above over, the embattled SeeDs could now join the fight below.

Malachi knew he was badly outnumbered, and with Quistis having survived what was apparently a mortal wound, he had a new, healthy respect for her. Discretion was the better part of valor, Malachi decided and he whipped an object from his bet at the floor. Quistis rushed forward in pursuit, but the object, a smoke grenade, exploded, filling the area with a thick black smoke.

Two minutes later the smoke had dissipated, but that was more then enough time for Malachi to escape through the passages and out from Balamb Garden, leaving his bomb behind to deal with the SeeDs.

Quistis let him go, and instead directed her reinforcements to search for the bomb Malachi had mentioned. As they hurried about, she touched her throat, where she had been cut, and remembered Alucard's words. Was this another manifestation of his power in her body?

She disregarded the thought, however, and snatched up her radio. With a bomb in the MD level, Balamb Garden was in critical danger. They had to find it, but if they couldn't locate the bomb, they'd have to evacuate the building.

* * *

A storm of blazing light slashed down at Squall as he ran along the top of the Flying Fortress. The pillars of light impacted all around him, ripping through armored plating and buffeting the SeeD. He charged on, not stopping as he crossed the warship. 

_Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it-_

An energy blast from Illarra crashed down hard behind him and sent him hurtling forward, over the edge of the domes structure. The SeeD righted himself, dropping feet first, and started sliding down the exterior hull of the ship. He quickly readied Lionheart, and looked up, waiting for Illarra.

The transformed Elemental swooped overhead and dove, flying down toward the SeeD, intent on catching him as he fell. He watched her descend, judged her speed and direction, and then, as she neared, he stabbed the blade into the hull. The gunblade cut deep into the hull, but slowed him down fractionally, enough to throw off Illarra's descent, causing her to fly past him. Planting his feet against the hull, Squall kicked off into the open air, and dropped down, landing solidly on her back.

Illarra didn't even realize he was there until both blades stabbed between her shoulders, where her neck met her back. The dragon let out a scream of pain as the Revolver and Lionheart plunged in, and Squall set his feet, tightened his grip, and pulled the triggers.

Illarra's thundering of pain increased tenfold, almost deafening the SeeD as he held on tightly, pulling the triggers on his gunblades over and over. The Revolver and Lionheart flashed and fired, concussive force shells ripping into her body, blasting her Elemental form and striking deep into the core of the transformed woman. She tumbled through the air, flying uncontrollably as squall fired and fired, each blast resulting in a scream of agonized torment.

Squall was intent on firing and holding on for dear life, his blasts damaging and weakening Illarra's draconic form. Each impact sent shudders throughout her body, every wound damaging Bahamut's power as much as it harmed her. She couldn't maintain this form for much longer-

So intent was he on finishing Illarra off, Squall never realized that her erratic, tumbling course was taking her straight toward Balamb Garden's command deck until they shattered through the glass and slammed into the ground, the dragon knocking desks over and sending shocked SeeD tumbling away from the impact. Squall was knocked loose, his gunblades tearing out of Illarra's back as she rolled across the main floor, her cries of pain shaking the chamber.

"Commander!" came several shouts as Squall shakily stood up, using the Revolver as leverage to push himself up to his feet. He watched the dragon as she tried to stand, but fell to the floor, rippling energy surrounding her as she defused with Bahamut.

_That was fast . . . didn't expect her to give up that form so easily._

The room was in complete chaos, but that came to a stop as the SeeDs regarded the dragon and the SeeD Commander. White light began pulsing around Illarra as she began to shift back to a human form. As this happened, the Commander looked around to his people, and saw from the main screen that the Garden was no longer under attack.

"Did he do it?" Squall asked. "Did Truth succeed?"

"Yes sir!" answered a SeeD officer. "Its over, Commander! We won!"

"Good," Squall replied, looking back to Illarra as her wings began to evaporate, shrinking back into her body as the draconic features began to fade.

"But the enemy managed to slip a bomb into the MD level," another called. "We're trying to find it. Quistis is down there looking for it now!"

"A bomb?" Squall asked. Before him, Illarra was almost human again, tail and long neck vanishing as her features shifted from serpentine to humanoid. He looked around the room tot he SeeDs, and realized the inherent danger. if this was an Estharian bomb, they might not be able to even find it, much less defuse it.

"Issue an evacuation order!" Squall called. "Nida, get this thing over to Galbadia Garden and have everyone evacuate the building!"

"Sir?" Nida called from the command pylon as Illarra, now human once more, stood up shakily, gunblade held loosely in hand. She stared at squall with her gouged eyes, her expression one of hatred and rage.

"Squall . . . " she breathed, and he saw blood seeping down her legs, trailing from her back. "I'm going . . . to . . . _kill you . . . ._"

"Get everyone out of here," Squall ordered. He raised his gunblade as Illarra steadied herself, the two Elemental facing one another. He glanced at the men and women around him. "Now! Evacuate! That's an order!"

_"Die!"_ Illarra screaming, rushing at the SeeD Commander as his men moved to issue the evacuation call.

* * *

The Estharians had instantly heeded Laguna's orders, and were already charging back tot heir transports to hurry to Crell's command ship, to hunt him down and kill him. Seifer watched them charge, and knew that those men, every one of them, was outraged and enraged. Nearly a hundred thousand Estharians had died, alongside tens of thousands of SeeDs and soldiers who had never been their enemy in the first place, all because of Crell Varines' lies and lust for power. 

The Estharian army was understandably pissed off, and as they charged over the burned, blasted corpses of their comrades, Seifer knew they wanted blood and vengeance.

Seifer's troops began to disperse, some of the badly wounded collapsing and with comrades rushing to their aid. Others began to take an accounting of the dead, but many simply sat down, exhausted and wearied by the unending, nearly hopeless struggle. Indeed, the entire army in the courtyard would have been wiped out were it not for Serra's sudden intervention.

She had partially regained her senses, and a SeeD medic was with her, helping her sit up. Seifer walked over to the young girl, and crouched beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes widening as she saw his bloodied, haggard face, and she shot forward, hugging him tightly. Seifer blinked, surprised, and began to lightly return the hug.

"When I heard you and Irvine were surrounded, I couldn't let . . . ."

"I understand," he whispered in response. He pulled away after a moment, and smiled. "You did good. You saved all of our lives." She nodded silently, and looked around the field of carnage, her expression unreadable. Somewhere in all of the violence and death, she had become immune to the horrors of war, somehow.

A shadow fell across the pair, and Seifer looked up, to see a familiar figure towering over them, smoke emanating from his pipe.

"It looks like I'm a little late," Alucard commented. The Guardian of Existence extended his right hand, his left holding his saber, as if prepared for battle. Serra reached up and lightly took his hand, and he helped her to her feet.

"Yeah, you are,' Seifer replied, a bit indignant.

"I'm sorry I could not help in the battle," he explained to the pair.

"What are you doing here?" Seifer asked bluntly. His words clearly told the Guardian that he didn't like his presence at that moment.

"I came to render what aid I may," the guardian answered. he glanced around the room, and then to Serra. "And I have determined Hyne's intent."

"You have?" she asked, and Alucard nodded. He paused, and sighed, seeming weary all of a sudden.

"Yes, Serra," he explained. "She facilitated the development of the Elemental project, but it was not until recently that I realized your importance."

"My importance?" she asked, confused, and he nodded.

"Hyne took you and made you into what you are today, a powerful Elemental," Alucard explained. "She took a special interest in you. Thus, I am very sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Serra replied. "I . . . am what I am."

"No, Serra," Alucard explained, shaking his head. "I was not apologizing for Hyne's actions. I am apologizing for this."

The rapier in his left hand shot forward, stabbing at Serra's heart. She stood still, not expecting the sudden attack as the slender blade dove at her chest.

It rang out loudly in the still courtyard air as Seifer leapt forward, his saber blocking the strike.

"What _the hell _are you doing?" he demanded.

"Hyne created Serra for a reason!" Alucard declared. "I do not know why, but she is the key to her whole plan! And because of that, I have to destroy her." He looked to Serra, his eyes softening somewhat. "Forgive me. I will make it quick and painless."

"Not!" Seifer shouted, driving the Guardian's sword away and standing before Serra, taking up a defensive position to protect her. "Happening!"

Alucard scowled, and then slowly raised his rapier. With a silent nod, he made a quick flourish with the weapon, and stared own Seifer.

"If you must stand in my way . . . _en guarde._"

* * *

-

* * *

Oh noes! Has Alucard turned on the heroes? DoesNash really havea god-killing gunblade? Will Zell find something to punch? Will Hades make another fourth-wall-breaking quip? WillPeptuck run out of Dr. Pepper?What's going to happen in the next chapter? The suspense is killing me! AND I'M THE AUTHOR! 

The final chapters of the saga are comming up . . . and trust me, there's still a twist or three left in this story . . . .

Until next chapter!


	28. XXVII: Griever

_**Chapter 27: Griever**_

The sparkling flash of crystallized energy clashing against crystallized energy illuminated Balamb Garden's command deck a dozen times in the span of a couple of seconds as Squall and Illarra collided. SeeDs rushed out of the chamber as the two Elementals met with blinding fury, the eyeless warriors connecting with resounding force that sent waves of displaced air across the deck. The last orders were given, and the Garden lurched as Nida set the auto-pilot to move near Galbadia Garden, and over the din of the evacuation, the sizzling impacts could be heard, along with Illarra's inarticulate screams of insanity, and the equally telling absence of sound from Squall. With grit, determination, and a set visage that betrayed an absolute lack of emotion, he parried and deflected with speeds that shocked even those who had seen him in action.

Illarra's frantic, madness-inspired attacks came just as fast, and despite the lack of control she exhibited, her skill was not tarnished, and her frenzy gave her new strength to match and drive the SeeD Commander back as he worked to defend against her relentless assault.

Nida, not bothering with the elevator, dropped off the top of the command pylon and ran past the battling warriors, pausing only to look back at the two human titans as they danced, weaved, and parried in a spectacular ballet of icy blue, vicious purple, and blazing white lights. The Garden pilot, who had seen a lot in his career, had no words to describe the storm of clashing weapons as Squall gave ground, backing up before Illarra, circling and parrying, and she advancing and striking with unfettered rage and reckless abandon.

The pilot was mesmerized by the battle, shocked and awed by the brutal dance, even as Squall backed up to a technician's desk and spun, vaulting over it and landing behind it, whipping around into a kick that sent the furniture flying at Illarra. Her weapon sheared right through the desk as she charged, screaming in inarticulate insanity. Squall caught her thrust, flipped it over with a press of his gunblade, and ducked even before she had started spinning into a kick of her own. Lionheart shot down at her knee, but she shifted her weight, flipping over the blade and coming around in an overhead cleave that Squall was already rolling away from. His left hand shot out in a punch at her gut as she landed, but her left hand interwove, blocking the jab, and her blade shot down, only to be parried by the waiting blue-white edge of Lionheart, which then poked forward at her chest, digging a shallow wound that Illarra was already backing away from, her foot spinning into Squall's temple. The Commander rolled with the kick, coming up in a rising cut that she parried, but he already rolled around the deflection, coming about in another cleave. Illarra dropped low to the ground, chopping in at Squall's knees, but he was leaping over the cut before it began.

And so it went, a whirling, spinning, flying dance of anticipation, counter, evasion, and deflection that had Nida rooted to his spot for a long while, mesmerized by the insane, impossible drama being waged before him. Blood flew from the two combatants, a dozen and more minor wounds appearing on their bodies, shallow cuts, slight gouges, and subtle bruises and welts making themselves apparent as gunblade flashed against gunblade.

Squall caught Illarra's jacket by the front, whirling around and slamming her into a desk, crushing the steel furniture. She flipped backwards even as she hit, kicking the ruined desk forward, Squall snapping his leg out and, in an impossible blow, his boot slammed into the metal and sent the desk flying out to either side, literally _kicking it in half._ Illarra shot into the gap, and Squall fell onto his back as her blade slashed it, his own weapon driving up at her gut as he dropped. She swerved to the side, rolling around the weapon, and Squall managed to flip over as he fell, planting his left hand against the floor and pushing up, Lionheart shooting up in a mid-air parry as Illarra spun, her violet blade cutting at his prone form. He flew up above the slashing sword, and planted his feet on the floor as it passed, Lionheart shooting ahead in a thrust that Illarra was only barely able to parry and evade through a spinning backflip and an arcing weapon that clashed with the icy edge of Lionheart in a thunderbolt of cracking light and sound.

Squall drove on, weapon slamming into Illarra's gunblade in a rapid stream of colliding blades, neither warrior earning an edge over the other as the battle raged.

"Nida!" Squall suddenly shouted as he and Illarra collided again. "Get clear! There's nothing more you can do up here!" His head shot forward, and Illarra replied, their foreheads slamming into each other, the resounding _crack_ echoing across the empty chamber, even as Squall planted his boot against her stomach and pushed her back. Illarra slammed into the command pylon, and Squall came in with a titanic left hook that slammed her forehead and sent her reeling back toward the window out of the command deck. Squall dove in, slashing across with his weapon even as the retreating woman left a trail of blood following her. She raised her gunblade, blocking the hit, and squall applied tremendous strength behind the swing, forcing her weapon out wide. With a twist of his body and the rapid setting of his feet, Squall angled his shoulder at Illarra, and shoved forward with all his power. The Commander slammed into her, hard, and Illarra was catapulted out of the command deck, sent flying outside the Garden and sliding down the white hull.

Squall wasted no time diving out after her, leaving a shocked Nida standing alone on the command deck.

* * *

Rinoa awoke. Her consciousness surged back suddenly, jerking her out of the fugue state she'd fallen into less than twenty minutes ago as she had fended off the assaulting Estharian army. Her entire body screamed with pain as she surged back into a waking state, her mind recovering from the intense agony of her overuse of Sorceress power.

She sat up immediately, eyes widening as her lungs ached, her whole body complaining from the abuse it had suffered. She dimly became aware that she was sitting on a bed in the infirmary of Trabia Garden. The Sorceress panted, sweat covering her as she finished awakening, remembering the intensity of those last moments before she passed out.

Rinoa looked up and around at the infirmary. She heard no battle alarms or other indicators of combat, nor did she see any medics hurrying about. It looked as if there was nothing going on, as if the battle was over.

_Did we win?_

Rinoa started to push herself forward, to get off the bed, and noticed that there were no medics or doctors in the room. She didn't understand this, but resolving to find out what was going on, and damning the pain she was feeling, she stood up, her head swimming for a moment before her body recovered. She felt shooting pains lancing through her, but ignored them as she moved toward the entrance to the small room.

Something changed, however, as she moved, a presence subtly entering the chamber, a whisper of displaced air. Rinoa whirled around, preparing to utilize a spell, but even as she began to summon the magic, her head exploded in pain, an agony even she couldn't ignore, causing the Sorceress to stumble.

"Feeling under the weather, huh?" came a voice, and she looked up, to see a man crossing the room, clad in jet black robes and with long dark red hair. The man regarded her for a moment, and chuckled.

"I can see why Leonhart digs you," he mused. "But anyway. Let's get this over with."

"Who . . . ." Rinoa muttered through the pounding in her head.

"Me? The name's Hades, and I can't stay long, my boss is engaged with a very angry guy who puts a whole new meaning to the adjective "flaming" when used to refer to a person. Look, I've got a message for you from Hyne." He walked forward toward her, and she stood up, banishing the pain and raising her fists into a guard. Hades blinked once, shrugged and snapped his fingers.

Darkness swept over Rinoa for an instant, sapping her energy with the powerful force of a Demi spell, sending her to her knees. The strength she was barely able to summon before was gone, stolen from her in an instant. As her knees banged on the hard carpet, hade strode in closer.

"Wow. You must have really over-exerted yourself if that was all it took to take you down. Hyne's not too happy with you abusing your powers . . . or should I say, _her_ powers, so, while she's dealing with that nutjob Nash, I'm playing repo man."

She let out a gasp of pain as Hades grabbed her by the top of her hair and lifted her up, and then grabbed her neck with his other hand. Fingers grasping her throat, he lifted her up higher, and then put his right hand on her chest.

"Huh. You've got some nice tits."

Then Rinoa felt energy spike through her, and a sense like every drop of blood in her body was being torn apart, rearranged, and drained through a filter. Icy, burning, painful wires cut through her, and a swelling ball of agony shot through her chest. She felt as if she was being blinded and deafened at once, her eyes and ears erupting in pain as energy shot from her body.

A shining pink and silver cloud of energy surged around Hades' arm as he pulled and ripped, tearing he power that had infused Rinoa for three years, the tremendous strength of the Sorceress, and gathered it into his palm.

Rinoa slumped to the floor limply, once again blasted from consciousness, and Hades towered over her, looking down at the unconscious woman. He glanced to his hand, and the shimmering fist-sized crystal he grasped.

"Huh. So, this is a Hyne's stone, huh? Wonder what mine looks like . . . ." After a second, Hades shrugged, and began to melt away into blackness. "Well, can't screw around here. Got work to do!"

* * *

Nash hurtled backwards through two more bulkheads, crashing through the metal as if it were cardboard, before flipping himself over and sending a pulse of flame that rivaled the engines of the Ragnarok out behind him, liquefying the small storeroom he was flying through and sending the enraged Elemental hurtling back through the ship, straight toward Hyne. Riding the torrent of fire like a missile, he flashed back into the chamber, letting out a tremendous roar of fury. The Guardian of The End blinked once as he shot toward her.

Then he flew past, Hyne drifting to the side, and leaving a small ball of light where she had been standing. Nash crashed head-first into the trap, and the ball of light detonated in a tremendous flash of light and explosion of deafening sound, and Nash slammed hard into the wall at a ninety degree angle to his original path.

He bounced off it as if made of rubber, his flames increasing tenfold, sending rivers of fire through the holes and tears ripped in the chamber as he launched himself at Hyne again. He flew in hard, blade flashing across as he struck, but even as the weapon neared, it stopped. With casual ease, the Guardian locked Nash in place with a flex of telekinetic muscles and slammed him down hard into the deck. The metal burst into flames, the very Estharian alloys set ablaze by Nash's rage, and he shot up once again, undeterred, screaming in rage as he flew past Hyne. She jerked away quickly, not expecting so quick a recovery, and hissed as Nash flipped over in mid-air, striking the ceiling with his feet.

The Elemental kicked off, shooting down toward Hyne, who now sported a second gash along the edge of her face, leaking silvery energy. He flashed down at her, and a scout bike leapt off the ground, flying into his path and slamming hard into his face, knocking the Elemental tot he side and sending him crashing to the floor below. He rolled along the metal, flames wreathing his body spreading out to set the floor around him glowing with his heat.

Hyne stared at Nash's battered form, and behind her, one of the tanks shuddered and floated up into the air. An instant later, another, behind it started to rise up. And then a third. Then a fourth.

Hyne then swept a hand at Nash, as if dismissing him, and the floating Estharian war machines hurtled toward the Elemental. Nash took a step backwards, sweeping his gunblade out before him as the torrent of steel weaponry closed in. He leapt up into a backflip as the first tank lumbered across at him. The glowing gunblade flashed forward, and there was an explosion as the power core of the tank was destroyed, and the vehicle flew apart to either side of the flipping warrior. He continued to rotate as another tank flew in, and planted his feet against it for an instant, kicking up off the tank and flying over it. Another one came in at him, and he cut quickly, severing part of the vehicle, enough for him to squeeze past the weapon.

The fourth tank crashed into Nash's chest, and sent him flying backward for an instant, before he unleashed a massive torrent of flame against the weapon and slammed both fists down onto it. The metal plating began to melt, and when his balled hands crashed down into the metal, it sent ripples the through the molten war machine, causing it to fly apart into a shower of glowing pieces and a whirling maelstrom of sparks whipping about.

Pieces of the molten, shattered tank clattered down around Nash as he stared at Hyne, his aura of fire simmering down to a smolder. He stared at her, eyes full of hate and denying the pain he was feeling at her latest assault.

The door to the bay suddenly flew open. Both combatants looked to the side, in time to see-

"Baby, I'm _back!"_

-Hades scoot across the floor, coming to a stop near Hyne, a wide grin on his face. He pumped his right arm into the air, and clutched within it was a gleaming crystal, pulsating with shimmering pink light.

"You took your time," Hyne remarked sourly. Hades shrugged, and looked around the room, at the debris and devastation, and then to Nash. He blinked when he saw the shining gunblade wreathed in god-killing magic.

"Huh. Angry mysterious bandana-wearing scarred badass wielding a glowing god-killing hybrid weapon." He beamed at Nash and gave him a thumbs up. "Congrats, man! You just somehow managed to roll every single fantasy and sci-fi movie hero cliché into one package! Now, do you smoke? That's all you need to complete the image."

"Will you shut _the fuck up?_" Nash snarled, and Hades shrugged again.

"No." He turned to Hyne as Nash's flames welled up uncontrollably, signaling his flaring temper. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Here ya go." He casually tossed the crystal to Hyne, who caught it, then stared at the lackadaisical Guardian of Death as if he were a complete fool.

"Do you have any idea-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, real ultimate power, blah-bah. At least I wasn't stupid enough to give the humans a share of my magic. If you hadn't done that, I wouldn't have had to go grope Rinoa and steal her powers and . . . . oh wait, never mind, that was actually pretty nice . . . ."

"You did _what_?" came Nash's enraged reply, his rage spilling over, an inferno flaring up around him.

"Yeah, I grabbed Rinoa's power and a quick squeeze on her tits while I was at it," Hades responded bluntly. "She's got some nice ones, too. Anyway-" He paused as Hyne held the crystal in one hand, and grinned.

"That crystal is-" Nash began.

"Oh yeah, smart man," Hades answered, nodding. "Not only did Rinoa have all of Edea's, Adel's, and Veronica's power, but she also had Ultimecia's, which was all that same power pulled from an alternate timeline, effectively making her twice as powerful as Hyne had intended humanity to get. But temporal hiccups aren't that bad, when you consider that at this moment . . . ."

"My power is being reabsorbed, twice over!" Hyne finished as the crystal shattered in her hands, transforming into shimmering pink vapor and mist that started to flow around her arms. A vortex of glowing silver and pink light rippled around her, and the small girl threw her head back, laughing an unearthly, demonic laugh as the energy poured into her.

"This whole plan was to get Hyne to absorb Rinoa's powers?" Nash asked, to which Hades burst out laughing.

"No, no, man, our old plan is still running quite nicely," Hades answered coolly. "This is just a bonus, and some insurance to insure angry bandana-wearing scarred mysterious badasses with glowing god-killing hybrid weapons don't wander along. That tends to ruin our days."

"Not if I can help it," Nash snarled, raising his gunblade as Hyne descended into the throes of her power, the new surge of strength rippling into her body. he took a step forward, and then whirled, his blade colliding with the haft of Hades' scythe as the Guardian's youthful feature burned away, revealing his blackened, demonic skull.

"And now, the climactic battle against the mid-boss while the endboss powers up!" Hades shouted, his charred visage grinning like a lunatic.

* * *

"Shove that fancy shit up your ass!" Seifer shouted in response to Alucard's words, and lanced forward at the Guardian, flipping his saber into an overhand, defensive grip as he charged in. Hyperion whipped out before him, and Alucard snapped his saber into a sudden guard. The rapier and the gunblade connected, and both broke away, Seifer spinning into a low cut with his gunblade that slashed up at Alucard. The Guardian rapidly parried, falling back a step in the blink of an eye and shooting down at Seifer with a flicking thrust. The saber in Seifer's other hand caught Alucard's rapier and held it for an instant, Hyperion shooting into the brief opening, driving into the Guardian's chest.

The gunblade erupted, firing a blast into Alucard, who grunted, took a step back, and shot ahead into a blindingly fast high kick that rocked Seifer across his temple and spun him around. Alucard stepped into another thrust, Seifer instinctively parrying and jumping up, flipping over the Guardian and slipping his saber into an underhand grip. Both Hyperion and the saber flashed down at Alucard's back, but in a flicker of motion, he was already away from the cutting swords-

-and in front of Seifer as he touched down, slamming the knight with a straight jab that launched him back fifteen feet across the body-strewn courtyard.

Seifer flipped over as he flew, and stabbed his saber into the ground, using it to instantly redirect his momentum, and flip around and hurl himself right back at Alucard, Hyperion shooting inward at the surprised Guardian's face. However, Alucard was surprised for only an instant, his rapier slapping the thrusting gunblade aside, his right hand catching Seifer by the throat and stopping him cold.

The pipe in Alucard's mouth suddenly exuded a wave of smoke that flew into Seifer's face, choking and disorienting him for a split-second while the Guardian spun around, his foot slamming Seifer in the lower back and launching him back across the room.

Alucard turned back toward Serra, and then whipped around, saber flying up and blocking a screaming shard of metal, erupting from a firearm, parrying the bullet with utmost precision. The rapier then flew about in a rapid dance, bullets ringing and deflecting off the slender weapon as a storm of lead shot in, every round rapidly parried. The Guardian eyed his opponent as the two sub-machineguns ran empty, and smirked.

"You'll have to try better, Kinneas," he remarked as Irvine dropped the empty magazines from his weapons and rapidly reloaded.

"Oh, I plan to, asshole," the sharpshooter answered.

A wave of white light slammed into the Guardian, spinning him around, and he saw Serra, Phoenix's wing erupted from her shoulder, staring at him intently, determination cutting across her features. The expression, all present saw, reminded them all of the look on her own father's face before he dove into battle, one of no fear or hesitation.

Alucard narrowed his eyes as he saw her decision to fight him directly, even as Diablos manifested from her other shoulder.

"If this is how it must be . . . ." he whispered, and then vanished, reappearing behind the striking blade of Hyperion as Seifer rejoined the fight,. The Guardian stabbed down at the passing knight, who rolled into a dive beneath the stab. He came around, chopping at the Guardian, scoring a slight cut on Alucard's arm, but the Guardian was already moving away, seemingly uninjured from any of the blows Seifer had dealt him.

"You are not hurting her if I can help it," Seifer snarled.

"Same goes here," Irvine responded, sighting Alucard in his weapon's scopes.

Serra strode up beside Seifer, her expression and posture speaking volumes. She was prepared to fight as well, for her own survival and that of her comrades.

Alucard looked at the three of them, and then flickered across the distance, appearing before Seifer with a rapid thrust. White light flashed, shadow pulsed, blade met blade, and two sub-machineguns roared.

* * *

Garden's demolitions team had been lucky. Quistis' rapid assault on the lower levels had ensured that while the enemy had been able to bring a bomb into the MD level, they hadn't had the time to properly hide the thing. However, even so, the SeeD demolitions specialists still had almost missed the weapon, until one man literally ran headfirst into the thing.

The enemy had opted to equip the thing with active camouflage, which helped hide the explosive device, especially considering its sheer size. Once the active camo had been disabled, the power behind the explosive was revealed, to the shock of the entire demo team.

"Shit, this thing's almost taller than me," whispered one SeeD, looking up at the massive bomb. It was easily over five and a half feet tall, a cylindrical device supported by a hovering sled that was fitted to the bottom of the device, though disabled by the retreating Estharian commandos. It was over seven feet long, and judging by the SeeD responses, it was powerful.

"How powerful is it?" Quistis asked, looking over the huge bomb.

"Ma'am, this thing blows, and Balamb Garden is over," answered one of the techs. "The entire MD level will be gone, and the rest of the Garden in under a few minutes. We have to disarm this thing, _now_."

"Evacuation orders have already been issued," added another SeeD. "The Commander is fighting Illarra upstairs on the command deck now. Nida's got us moving to Galbadia Garden."

"Can you disarm the bomb?" Quistis asked, and one of the techs recoiled as an electric shock went through the device, clearly a security system.

"We can disarm anything, ma'am," another answered as he probed the device with several tools. "The only question is . . .whether we can disarm it in time."

"And we don't know what the countdown timer on this thing is," another stated.

"Then its even more important that we get this Garden evacuated," Quistis responded. "Can you handle this?"

"Yes ma'am," the leader of the demo team answered. "Ma'am, get upstairs and direct the evac effort. If this thing goes bad . . . ."

"I understand," Quistis replied. "Good luck."

* * *

She had mimicked Squall's earlier moves, driving her gunblade into the side of the Garden and slowing her descent. Squall slid down the hull of Balamb Garden, wondering how many times he was going to have to ride the hulls of these things and cut gouges into the side of his own ship. His gunblade sheared through the metal hull as Illarra came to a stop at one of the classroom windows below, shattered open in the fighting, and dropped into the room. Squall was an instant behind her as she ran into the chamber, leaping up on one of the study panels and spinning to face Squall. He mimicked her action, doing the same on another panel across from her. He stared at Illarra with his eyeless gaze, and she matched the stare, smirking. The expression almost caught Squall off-guard. Moments ago she had been possessed by an insane fury, and now she was smiling. If he hadn't known that she was a complete lunatic already, he would have been shocked at the sudden change in her emotions.

"Don't you understand, Squall?" she asked him, and then lashed out with a sudden strike that Squall instantly blocked. She leapt off the panel and toward another one, and Squall followed suit, countering another thrust with a stab of his own.

"Understand what?" she demanded as she jumped ahead, gunblade chopping violently, flashing and clashing against Lionheart. Squall backed up a step, hopping to another panel, giving ground as she advanced once more.

"We are more than humans!" she shouted, charging in at him, her previous calm and amused demeanor vanishing in a heartbeat. She was getting more erratic and violent in her mood swings; the psychosis was worsening.

"Chimera descendants, infused with the power of the Guardians themselves!" she continued, their blades ringing and colliding as they danced across the consoles. "What do you think that makes us?"

"People who got the shit options in life?" Squall snarled, driving back against her. She backed up a step, and flipped over him with a single bound, cleaving as she did so, but her blade instantly stopped by Squall's parrying weapon.

"Transcendent, Squall!" she answered, whipping around as she landed, her weapon and his colliding with enough force to whip both their long hair backwards. "You and I, and all the other Elementals, we can be something more than humanity! We can rise beyond these worthless base urges and forge a new existence! An existence of a new species, free of humanity's weaknesses!"

"Weaknesses?" Squall snarled. Their dance on the study panels was going nowhere, fast; he decided to end it. He drove forward, blade clashing in a sudden flurry of cuts and slices.

"_Weaknesses?"_ he demanded again, pushing her gunblade back and the slamming her face hard with a sudden right cross, using the force in his snarl to momentarily distract her. Illarra flew back into the wall over the instructor's desk, crashing into the video screen and shattering through the glass.

An instant later, she slammed straight through the solid metal and ceramic wall as Squall crashed into her with a tremendous flying kick, both of his legs impacting against her chest and driving her through the wall and into the hallway outside.

"The only human weakness I'm seeing is your lunacy!" Squall continued as he charged through the shattered wall, forehead rocking into Illarra's nose as she reeled backward from the impact, and crashed into the wall opposite the one she had just exited from. The empty hallway, devoid of soldiers and SeeDs since the evacuation order was issued, echoed with the resounding crash. Squall rammed into her again, cracking the wall behind Illarra, and started punching her viciously, slamming his gunblade's butt into her chest, stomach, and head, while his left hand balled into a fist and provided a brutal beating as well. Each impact sent further cracks through the wall behind Illarra as Squall continued to pound away, unrelenting.

"I'm putting an end to this insanity, right here!" Squall shouted into her face. He reared back, and punched her again, the impact slamming her straight through the wall once more and sending her reeling backward through the gap, which opened up into the main Garden interior structure far below. Illarra fell back, but Squall grabbed her by the front of her jacket and hauled her close, headbutting her again, and reaching back with his gunblade arm, preparing to slam her again.

_**Hurt her, Squall! Do it! Make her scream and suffer!**_

Griever's interjection stunned the SeeD for a split second, shocking him with the realization that he was doing exactly what Griever craved the most, and that instant gave Illarra all the time she needed to burst into a wild, cackling laughter, and reach forward, grabbing the SeeD Commander. Before he could react, she fell backward, tumbling out of the hole Squall had punched and dropping toward the lower level stretching out below, and dragged him along with her.

"If you insist on stopping me," she whispered.

Illarra spun around in mid-air as she fell, and pumped her arms, sending Squall hurtling down toward the ground below. She dropped after him, pointing her gunblade at the falling SeeD.

"You'll share humanity's fate!"

Below, the SeeDs and soldiers were still hurrying about. Balamb Garden was near Galbadia Garden, and the troops were already evacuating off of it, but there were still many troops remaining. They scattered as Squall plummeted, and he slammed into the floor hard enough to shatter ceramic tiles and knock several people over with the force behind his impact.

Illarra fell down, gunblade diving for the SeeD commander's gut, and she let out a howl of victory.

Light flashed in the interior of Garden.

Squall, on his back, locked his gunblade with Illarra, both his legs raised and driven into her gut. Her face instantly shifted from one of insane glee to one of shocked pain.

Squall coiled his legs, kicked her up slightly, and whipped around, his legs slamming into her side and launching her off the circular walkway and into another wall. She crashed into it, and dropped down, toward one of the knee-deep pools. Her shocked body splashed into the water, and she rose up, letting out a scream of rage as she did so.

"Squall!" came a shout, and Squall stood up shakily, blood oozing from new wounds, and saw Zell running toward him, Quistis right behind him. Other SeeDs and soldiers gathered around the Commander.

"Get out of here!" Squall shouted. "She won't hesitate to kill any of you! Evacuate the Garden!"

"But you-" Zell protested.

"Go! I'll deal with her! That's an order!"

Zell stood there for an instant, uncertain of doing as Squall told him, and the SeeD spun toward the brawler, grabbing him with his left hand and looking him dead in the eyes with his bandaged face.

"Zell, I have never given you a direct order before, but if you trust me, you _will obey this order! Get the hell out of here! NOW!"_

Squall shoved Zell back suddenly with such force that the battered brawler knocked over other SeeDs, and then he turned toward Illarra as she splashed through the water, gunblade shining in the reflective pools like a brand of violet flame looking to consume whatever it could find. He charged forward, leaping off the walkway, and dove at Illarra. She cocked her arm back, readying her gunblade. Squall raised his own as he fell.

Both warriors met, their weapons snapping forward in a single stroke of flashing light and striking energy, and the light of impact momentarily blinded all onlookers. The water beneath their feet was swept outward, the floor beneath the two being momentarily swept dry by the shock of the two weapons impacting, and all of Balamb Garden, for a very brief instant, shuddered.

* * *

"What the heck is going on down there?" Selphie asked as the Ragnarok swooped over Galbadia Garden. She had picked up the transmission wherein Laguna had effectively screwed Crell's plans for world domination, but now, as she watched, Balamb Garden was docking with Galbadia Garden, and every surviving soldier and SeeD was streaming off the ship and into Galbadia Garden.

"Something bad is going on down there," Jofey commented as Selphie brought her airship lower. Behind them, Elain looked up, eyes widening.

"Selphie!" she called. "There's some thing going on in the courtyard in G Garden! It sounds like something bad is happening!"

"What do you mean?" Selphie asked urgently, looking back at the SeeD behind her.

"It sounds like Seifer and Irvine are fighting someone, I think that Alucard person."

"Irvine?" Selphie asked. "Alucard?" She suddenly swerved the ship, sending the Ragnarok directly toward Galbadia Garden. She accelerated, hurling her ship directly at the ship below.

"Hang on! We're going to give 'em some backup!" she shouted, and the other two SeeDs did exactly that, hanging on for dear life.

* * *

"You _mother_-" Nash clashed against Hades' weapon, slamming his head into the Guardian of Death's face, knocking him backward.

"-_fucking_-" Hades spun around, melting into shadow and reappearing behind Nash, chopping down with his scythe, the blade clashing against Nash's shimmering sword.

"-_bastard!"_ Nash's scream was accompanied by a cascading tidalw ave of immolating fire that spread across the entire chamber, launching Hades backwards into a wall, which started to glow from the white-hot heat that the Elemental was channeling. Hades pushed himself off the wall, grinning with insurmountable good cheer, and darkness blasted outward, sweeping over Nash and sending the Elemental reeling. The chamber cooled for a moment as his fires dimmed.

"No, seriously, better luck next time!" Hades shouted. "Your next super-charged mega-move might actually be able to really hurt me!"

"Hold still and let me shove this shit right up your ass!" Nash answered, flashing across the room. His gunblade arced over his head, and Hades vanished, cutting in behind him and slashing with his scythe, The blade cut across Nash's shoulder blades and caused the Elemental to thunder a cry of agony. He spun around, the white-hot flames intensifying, the metal walls and floors deforming. Streams of fire shot beneath Nash's feet, keeping him steady as he lashed out again, the room around him letting and deforming as he unleashed true hellfire on his surroundings, his rage peaking over.

"Nah, not today!" Hades replied. "I value the sanctity of my ass, thank you very much! I may be beautiful, but I'm strictly straight, understand?"

The gunblade cut in at Hades, and the Guardian blocked it with his scythe's haft. The white flames shot down the weapon, into Hades' face, but if the Guardian was singed, he didn't show it. Instead, he responded by whipping the weapon across, knocking the gunblade out of line and leaving Nash open for a wave of deathly chilling shadow that sapped the life from his body.

"You don't get it, do you?" Hades snarled, his voice somewhere between condescension and a mocking snicker. "You can't even begin to touch me, let alone her! What power does a punk with fire have against the real force of Death itself?"

Hades ate his words an instant later as Nash shot forward, punching him solidly across the jaw.

"Death doesn't punch over-talkative assholes in the face!" Nash responded as Hades flew backward.

Then, the chamber, glowing white and red and orange from the insane flames that Nash was channeling, went instantly cold. The fires wreathing Nash's body faded in an instant. The deformed metal solidified instantly, turning the chamber into a twisted, surrealistic nightmare landscape. The Elemental looked to his surroundings, and was suddenly struck by a noise that chilled him to the bone.

Hyne giggled.

* * *

Brass casing rained to the floor as Irvine fought to track his opponent, bullets ripping through the air. The sharpshooter had to watch his aim, for a crowd of hundreds of onlookers was gathered around the battle, shocked and awestruck that someone who should have been an ally was battling their commanders. The crowd had begun to swell with the arriving evacuees from Balamb Garden, which was making it that much harder for Irvine to use his weapons.

Seifer, on the other hand, had no such limitations, and flew in at Alucard, blades weaving and cutting viciously with lightning-fast arcs and slices. Yet, despite every cunning attack routine and combination he used, Alucard's blade was always there, deflecting his saber and gunblade aside with deft precision. Their blades would meet in a vicious ring of sword on sword, and then the Guardian would flicker away, vanishing as Irvine fired a shot or Serra cast bolts of destruction.

Seifer pursued, always moving near Serra as the Guardian would attack in her direction, interposing blade on blade before the Guardian could harm her. Their swords met again, and over Seifer's shoulder, a black wing stabbed forward, loosing a stream of shadow magic that caused Alucard to teleport away, only to reappear right in Irvine's sights. Irvine fired, using one of his powerful revolvers to minimize the chance of a stray shot hitting a bystander. Alucard's rapier rose up, parrying the heavy slug, and he had to whirl as Seifer shot in, Hyperion stabbing at his gut. A rapid, smooth deflection and a flicking counter-slash of his rapier had Seifer's saber blocking, and Alucard ducked low. His right hand shot ahead in an open palm strike that hurled Seifer backward, and the Guardian then raised that hand as a beam of white light lanced at him, catching it on his palm, resulting in a deafening explosion of sound and blinding light. He shot ahead again, at Serra, whose wings circled in front of her, creating a swirling wall of fire and shadow that gave the Guardian pause momentarily.

He teleported straight through the barrier, however, and attacked Serra directly, stabbing his rapier at her chest. Phoenix shot ahead, the rapier impacting solidly against the shining, fiery wing, and Diablos cut outward, jabbing at Alucard's chest, the wing suddenly becoming bladed and wreathed in shadow magic. Alucard hopped back a step, smacking the wing with his rapier and stopping it, and flashing energy crashed into his chest, courtesy of Phoenix, and he was sent spinning backward into the wall of fire and shadow even as it started to dissipate.

Then, the Guardian blocked another well-placed shot from Irvine, and whipped about to face Seifer as his blades drove in again. Rapier parried Hyperion, and Alucard's right hand caught the saber as it dove in, catching the blade and stopping it between his fingers. His left leg shot up into a kick that Seifer had to drop low and leap back to evade.

Irvine's next shot hit the mark, and Alucard's head was rocked to the side as a .357 slug slammed into the side of his temple. The Guardian reeled back for an instant, but none present were expecting him to fold so easily. Indeed, even as he fell away, the gaping wound on the side of the Guardian's head was sealing up, the bullet pushed out of his flesh by his incredible regenerative powers.

Alucard shook his head, and shot forward again at Seifer, rapier diving in. Seifer raised his saber to parry and there was a sudden impact, but not of blades meeting blades. Rather, this was an impact of metal-wreathed knuckles crashing against Alucard's face. The Guardian was launched backward into the air, but he stopped himself in mid-flight with a sudden teleport that hand him right back in front of his attacker, just in time to catch a knee to the gut. An uppercut slammed his chin and rocked him backward, and a solid right hook sent the Guardian spinning.

"Oh, yeah, suck it!" Zell Dincht shouted. The brawler, freshly arrived from Balamb Garden, rushed in. He had been horribly torn at Squall's order to evacuate, and his pent-up frustrations at the order, which went against everything that mattered to the brawler, were now being let out as he dove into another fight where he _could_ help someone.

Alucard came around, rapier stabbing at Zell as the brawler charged. Zell brought up his fists, the metal knuckles atop his gloves catching the rapier and stopping it, and he flipped forward into a spectacular over head kick that almost smashed into the top of the Guardian's head, if he hadn't seen the attack coming. Alucard vanished and reappeared behind Zell, but the brawler had already dropped to the ground, planting his feet against the floor and whirling into a low sweep.

Alucard leapt over the attack, and vanished again, using his annoying teleportation to evade a thrust by Seifer. He reappeared behind the knight, and shot toward Serra again. Her wings unfurled, fire and shadow flaring up around her as she moved to meet the attack once more.

The resounding _crack!_ of a snapping chain whip filled the room, and Alucard stumbled, the curving blade of a rante cutting into this side and tearing out. He stood still for an instant, and two .357 slugs impacted solidly within his chest. Seifer's Hyperion and Zell's fists roared in at the guardian even as he was reeling, and Alucard teleported away again before he could take more punishment. He reappeared beyond the attacking group, and whirled to face his newest antagonist.

"Quistis!" he shouted, almost as if betrayed. Quistis, standing at the edge of the crowd of onlooking soldiers and SeeDs, advanced, whip gripped tightly in her hands and ready to strike. Her blue eyes projected her determination to enter this battle, and told Alucard all he needed to know.

"You would fight against what is necessary as well?" he whispered, and she nodded firmly.

"I'm sorry," she stated quietly. "I cannot let you harm my friends, or Squall's . . . ." She stopped abruptly, not wanting to let that bit of information slip.

"Holy shit, shock, awe, the two damn fluttery-eyed and warm-hearted comrades are about fight one another blah blah _fucking blah_ let's fight!" came a shout from Seifer, and Alucard whipped around in time to stop Hyperion from stabbing into his back again, and then caught a solid cross from Zell, rocked backwards. Quistis surged forward, whip snapping out, and Alucard was sent reeling yet again as a .357 slug buried into his chest. Quistis' rante dug in, slicing another wicked wound, and Alucard teleported away, his visage now replaced with one of pure rage and anger . . . An anger which doubled over when two bolts, one of light and one of shadow, slammed into his back.

"Fine then!" he shouted. "If you truly do desire to stand in my way, I will show you just how powerful an UnboundGuardian Force really is!"

* * *

"Take over!" Selphie shouted to Jofey, and leapt up out of her chair as she brought the Ragnarok into a hover directly over the glass dome overlooking the central courtyard of Galbadia Garden. Jofey dove for the controls as Selphie turned, charging out of the cockpit, strapping her nunchaku bars to her back. She rode the elevator down and charged through the halls to the loading ramp and slapped the control to open the ramp. The ramp started to open, way too slowly for the tiny, excitable SeeD. She watched it lower, almost hopping up and down in anxiety-filled energy. She just knew Irvine was in serious trouble and something -_Shiva?-_ told her that Alucard was too much for even all of her friends to take on by themselves. They would need her Elemental powers to even the score.

The ramp lowered, and Selphie rushed out. She looked to the glass below, and started channeling up her magic, when she felt something, a rush, a clash of light and power. She looked down, scanning the area beneath her, and spotted the entrance to Balamb Garden, now devoid of any soldiers or SeeDs as the last of their forces finished evacuating the Garden. The only thing she could see was a pair of warriors, blue and purple blades clashing.

Her heart jumped.

_Squall! He's fighting Illarra!_

Even as she was watching, the two Gardens broke away, Nida's autopilot program bringing the two ships apart, and she could clearly see gunblade meeting gunblade as they fought in that archway, their battle having raged through the Garden and bringing them to that point.

_Kick her ass, Squall! Do it!_

Selphie tore her eyes from the spectacle of the two battling, and looked down at the glass below. She had friends to save.

* * *

_- parry strike deflection -_

The Garden was empty, and Squall and Illarra faced one another alone. Two coins, opposite sides of the same idea, the same face, the same history, the same heritage. Both of them carried that blood in their veins, and both of them carried the strength of an Elemental coursing through their bodies.

_- flash cut chop -_

Squall Leonhart. Born of Raine Leonhart, daughter of the Chimera. Son of Laguna Loire, President of Esthar. Commander of Balamb Garden. Lover of Rinoa Heartilly. Father of Serra. A man who had fought against the worst of odds, a warrior who had never backed down, never surrendered, and never hesitated to do what he needed to do. Fearless. Lethal. Undaunted. That was the man who fought that day.

-_ scream attack collision -_

Illarra Varines. Daughter of Crell Varines, deposed dictator of Esthar, usurper of the government of that nation, and the man once known as Virago. Key soldier in his army. Raised from childhood in brutality, with the intent to be the ultimate killing machine. A woman who had endured a life of horror. A woman who had responded to her horrid life in the only way she could; insanity. A broken warrior, lashing out at an enemy, any enemy, something to fight and kill, be it her captors, Squall Leonhart, humankind. That was the woman who fought that day.

_- killing destroy light -_

Hatred, fury, and unrelenting rage burned behind the violet blade. Determination, dedication, and fearlessness stood resolutely behind the icy blue blade. Two warriors, so alike physically, yet so far apart in mind, heart, and soul.

_- crash stab assault -_

Icy blue and blazing purple met in the entryway to Balamb Garden. The two warriors had fought their way through the Garden, up onto dry land, their strokes sending waves through the water in the pools below. Their battle was a dance of brutality, of interception and anticipation. Blood pooled on the floor as they bled out, the two warriors clashing and battling in a seemingly never-ending struggle. They were as angels and demons locked in eternal struggle, neither human nor monster, neither god nor mortal. They were two warriors, the ultimate soldiers facing each other in a battle of ultimate opposites.

Insanity against clarity.

Rage against discipline.

Hatred against love.

In that entryway, they met. In that entryway, Squall Leonhart and Illarra clashed again, blades cutting and stabbing, weapons stained with each others' blood. At Garden's front gate, the two stood, their clothes stained and running bright crimson.

Her eyeless gaze projected her unstoppable hatred and her desire for vengeance. His showed only his desire to protect his family, his friends, and his world.

"There won't ever be an end to this, will it?" she whispered through her hoarse throat, raw from her inarticulate screams.

"It will end only when one of us chooses it to," Squall answered.

The two warriors stared each other down, both seeing through the Zanshin sight and into each others' blazing eyes.

"I will have my vengeance," Illarra snarled her promise. "I will burn it all, Squall. Everything will die. You, Garden, humankind . . . Everything."

"I can't let that happen," Squall answered.

Illarra and Squall stared at each other again, their commitments voiced. They both had already known that one of them was going to die, but there was something final about that last exchange, a statement that they were finished crossing blades. At this moment, they both understood.

_This is the end._

Squall and Illarra raised their weapons. The two warriors stared at each other, muscles tensing.

They broke at the same time, crossing the short distance, boots pounding on the tiled, bloodstained floor. Their gunblades wavered, prepared to strike. Squall gritted his teeth, and Illarra opened her mouth, letting out one final, enraged roar.

Blue met violet. Lion met serpent.

There was light, and there was noise, and there was pain. Squall Leonhart and Illarra Varines were then past each other, and flying past them, whirling in the salty ocean air, were shards of blue and purple crystal, flying in every direction, the two gunblades broken.

Illarra turned, drawing her knife, spinning to strike at Squall. However, she stopped in mid-motion, something holding her back, pressing against her stomach. She hesitated, her fingers slipping from the knife, her strength fading. She looked down, and understood.

The Revolver was buried in her stomach, Squall drawing and stabbing out behind him with the weapon beneath his left armpit. He turned, lethargically, as if sunk within molasses, and she stared up at his face as she felt her knees go weak. He looked back at her and, without a word, his index finger moved.

There was no pain. All she knew was that she was laying on her back, staring up at the sky. A strange sense of peace washed over her in that moment, a feeling that . . . That she didn't have to keep fighting anymore. As if all her hatred was gone, or that it simply didn't matter anymore.

Squall stood over her, his gunblade covered in her blood. She felt cold, but staring up at his face made her feel warm. Like . . . Like he had just set her free from everything. Her past, her family, her hatreds . . . Squall had taken them all away in that instant.

She couldn't speak. She didn't have lungs with which to speak, but the look on her face, the expression in her eyes, the eyes only Squall could see, told him everything she needed to tell him.

_Thank you, Squall. Thank you for . . . for killing me._

And Illarra Varines knew no more.

* * *

Alucard had been fast before. But now, as Seifer slashed viciously at the Guardian with both blades, his own weapons flickering like whispering shards of silver light, he found that Alucard was intercepting every hit with stunning precision. Hyperion sliced, the saber slashed, and Alucard deflected every cut instantly and countered with such speed Seifer was barely able to defend himself from the devastating counters.

Zell drove in from the right as Alucard deflected a half-dozen cuts, and Alucard whirled, his rapier somehow trapping both of Seifer's blades together for an instant. Zell's left hand shot ahead in a blindingly-fast jab, but Alucard caught his wrist, turned the hand out wide, and sent a straight, solid kick into the brawler's gut in the blink of an eye, before flickering away in another teleport.

He reappeared in front of Serra, stabbing at her once more, and her wings rushed forward to intercept the attack. He vanished again, however, reappearing behind her, and then disappeared again, appearing just above her, even as she was reacting to the first teleport. She looked up at him as he fell, saber diving at her head, and then a chain wrapped around his leg.

Quistis flicked her wrist and sent Alucard slamming to the ground with tremendous force, but even as he bounced up, he vanished again, appearing right in front of Quistis, rapier flicking across at her. Her whip came back in faster than should have been physically possible, the chain ensnaring and looping around the slender blade and stopping it. Quistis grabbed either end of the chain and twisted, trying to wrench the weapon from Alucard's hands. He held on tight, however, and snapped up his foot, catching her in the chin and sending her flying backward, her whip's chain loosening.

The Guardian turned around instantly as Seifer and Zell charged in, side-by side, and as they neared, the pair broke into attacks at opposite directions, coming at Alucard from either side, blades and fists diving in to attack.

Alucard reappeared beside them, between the pair as they dove at his original spot, sbaer lashing out and striking Seifer in his left elbow while his right arm rocked Zell in the side of his head. Both fighters stumbled, and Alucard was away, shooting to where Serra stood, rapier raised.

A dozen bullets slammed into him as he neared her, as Irvine finally picked up a target, and Serra sent out streaming fire and light accompanied by rolling shadow that the Guardian only barely managed to teleport away from before it could strike him.

Seifer and Zell, neither really slowed by their new injuries, rumbled in, attacking once more. Alucard whirled, saber and rapier meeting as Hyperion cut into his gut and Zell sent one, two, three vicious punches into the Guardian, followed by a powerful right snap-kick that sent the Guardian hurtling backward, right into a strike from Quistis' chain whip. The rante curled back as Seifer and Zell charged in again. Saber and Hyperion rose into diving thrusts at Alucard's chest, neither Seifer nor Zell wanting to give up momentum.

Alucard suddenly snapped his rapier ahead and down, the blade striking the tops of both Hyperion and Seifer's saber, driving them down. He spun as he struck, leg shooting up faster than Zell could follow, and slamming the brawler across the front of his face, sending him flipping backwards across the battlefield. A powerful right hook, flying up and slamming down, hit the top of Seifer's head, pounding the knight into the floor. Quistis snapped her whip out again, and Alucard spun, catching the chain in his right hand. He tugged, _hard,_ and Quistis was suddenly pulled off her feet, flying toward the Guardian, and he raised his foot, a look of faint sadness on his face.

Her chin crashed into his shoe, and she fell to the floor, dazed by the powerful pull and sudden, painful stop.

Alucard turned and, almost as an after thought, his saber rose. The blade flickered about almost casually, bullets ringing off its length as Irvine sent another barrage at the Guardian. The sharpshooter's pistols ran dry, and even as he moved to reload them, Alucard appeared right in front of the gunslinger. A single right hook slammed into Irvine's face, sending him sprawling to the floor, the unjunctioned human dazed by the powerful blow.

Alucard turned toward Serra as all of her comrades and protectors lay across the floor, among the bodies of the dead, and walked toward the girl. She stared at Alucard, her expression betraying no fear or hesitation.

"Do not make this hard on yourself," he pleaded with her. "I will make your death quick."

"Why do you want to kill me?" she asked, and Alucard shook his head.

"You are an innocent child, undeserving of your fate," he explained. "Hyne's purpose for you is unknown, but I do know that your continued life is essential to her plan. If you yet live, all of existence may be threatened. I cannot have that, Serra. I apologize for what I must do now."

"Get . . ." Seifer snarled, and Alucard glanced over at the knight as he rose, eyes full of rage and determination as he started to push himself up off the floor. "Away from . . . her . . . ."

Alucard looked back to Serra, and ignored Seifer as he strode toward her. He raised therapier for a strike, and Serra's wings unfurled, preparing to intercept the attack head-on.

"No!" Seifer screamed, standing up and lurching forward, but knowing he'd be unable to get to Serra in time as she and Alucard prepared to meet.

The chamber darkened, then, and everyone stopped. They looked up, to see the glass ceiling above them seeming to cloud over with a faintly transparent covering, that almost looked like . . . like _ice_ . . . .

The glass exploded inward, and rushing from on high was what looked for all the world like a tremendous serpent, a massive snake-like monster composed entirely of ice, chiseled and shaped from the very forces of cold. The tremendous serpent, plunged down, curling down directly at where Alucard stood, a reverberating roar resounding throughout the entire Garden as the monster dove in.

And riding on the back of that massive serpent was a tiny SeeD, looking almost as if she was surfing atop the dragon's head.

"Whoo-hoo!" Selphie screamed as the dragon dove right at where Alucard stood, the Guardian so shocked by what he saw that he didn't think tot teleport until the icy construct slammed headlong into him in a tremendous explosion of pure cold energy. White shards of ice flew throughout the chamber as the dragon exploded, Selphie leaping off its back, an exuberant expression on her face as she spun toward the epicenter of the detonation.

"Booya!" she shouted as the frigid cold faded away, the shards of shaped ice seeming to evaporate in the wind.

The Guardian slowly stood up, shakily, surprised by Selphie's amazing expenditure of magical power. She turned toward her, respect in his eyes as her comrades shakily rose up around her. Zell looked battered, but ready to fight, and Irvine seemed more angry than injured, even as a tremendous welt became visible across his face where he had been hit. Quistis, too, stood, rubbing her jaw. Selphie readied her nunchaku as Serra quietly moved behind Alucard, ready to flank him.

The Guardian looked all round to the people surrounding him, and then to the hundreds of onlooking soldiers and SeeDs who ringed the courtyard. Each of them looked both awed by the battle and debating to themselves as to whether to enter it themselves, despite their lack of power relative to any of the combatants. As he watched, Seifer moved over to where Serra stood and straightened, despite his painful injuries, and faced the Guardian. He slid into a defensive stance, Hyperion pointed at Alucard, the saber in an overhand grip and laid over the gunblade, also pointing at the Guardian.

Alucard stared at the enemy surrounding him, and anger creeped into his face again.

"So, you all oppose me?" he snarled. "You all oppose my doing what is necessary to save all of you?" He pointed his saber at Serra. "She has to die!"

"Not. Happening." Seifer muttered.

"Right," Irvine added.

"No way in hell you're getting at her!" Zell proclaimed.

"Right!" Selphie added in.

Alucard turned toward Quistis, his expression softening, as if to say "_You too?"_

Her response was to raise her rante, prepared for combat. There was no mistaking her intent; these were her friends, and she would die beside them if need be.

"So be it," he whispered. "If you refuse to let me save this world . . . You are Hyne's creations, doomed to damn this realm to nothingness. If you refuse to let me do what is necessary, then you can all die yourselves _by her hand!"_

And, with that final proclamation, Alucard vanished, and did not reappear.

* * *

Squall stared down at Illarra' still corpse, her blood pooling over her body. Calmly, he reached up and took off the bandages around his slashed eyes, and knelt down by her side. He tied the bandage around her face, giving her the closest approximation to closing the eyes of a fallen comrade that he could.. He quietly laid her hands over her blasted stomach, and set her shattered gunblade's gun aspect into her fingers, and stood up.

He stared down at the woman, who finally seemed to have found the peace she had never known while living, and turned around, striding back into the Garden.

_**Well done, Squall.**_

_Shut up._

Squall walked into the Garden, looking around at the badly damage interior, and sighed. At last the war was finally over, though the losses they'd suffered thus far were tremendous. But now it was finished.

_**Finished, Squall?**_

Squall suddenly found himself standing ramrod straight, and dread washed over his body.

_**Oh, no, Squall. I hasn't ended yet. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that we've just gotten started. Come now, Commander. Let's enjoy some fun . . . while we can.**_

_I'm not going to let you! I'll die before-_

**_Haven't you learned anything, Squall? Be quiet, and relax. Its_ my_playtime now._**

* * *

Nash and Hades backed away from one another, the Elemental turning to face the Guardian of The End, chills shooting through him as felt her power emanating off her in waves. The Guardian seemed completely unchanged at first glace, still seeming as if a tiny, innocent, harmless little girl, but that was only at first glance. Indeed, there was something more powerful, more sinister about her now as she looked at Nash, a slight smirk on her face.

And then he saw he hands, gripping two long, sender strips of what looked like metal, and Nash then understood.

He had studied the legends of Hyne, and while they had been very inaccurate for the most part regarding her true powers and intentions, they had mentioned that before Hyne had granted part of her powers to humanity, she had wielded two weapons, devastatingly powerful ones.

Hyne flicked her wrists, an the two strips of metal expanded into a pair of large, elegant metal and cloth fans, one made of pure darkness, the other glittering with light. Nash watched her, his wariness increasing as he stared the two fans gripped in the little girl's hands. They looked delicate and simple, but he knew that, like everything else about Hyne, that these weapons were unbelievably deadly.

With her amused smile never wavering, Hyne raised the fan in her left hand and flicked it at Nash. A wave of weakness spread over him, and for an instant, the glowing light of his gunblade seemed to flicker. The Elemental felt his whole body slacken, his knees going weak, and a strange lethargy passing over his body.

Hyne then waved the fan in her right hand at him, and he was caught in the middle of a wave of pure destructive force, the energy blasting the Elemental backward across the room, sending him slamming into the deformed walls, his skin flaring in agony as the destructive power ripped at his body.

"Beautiful," she whispered, looking down at her weapons. "Its been a long time since I got to use these . . . And the magic from the alternate timeline has made them so much stronger! Simply exquisite . . . ."

"The Death Fans," Hades remarked with a chuckle. "One of pure void, total suppression of all energy. And the other of pure destruction."

"Both aspects of annihilation," Hyne finished. "I destroy, and I leave nothing to replace it. Truly the deadliest of weapons. Void and Destruction. I missed these Death Fans . . . ."

Nash picked himself up off the floor, growling in rage. He banished whatever dread or fear he'd been feeling and stood, his glowing weapon flaring again with its god-killing light. He loosed an inarticulate roar of rage and defiance and hurled himself across the room at Hyne, weapon reaching back for a devastating cleave.

The Void Fan waved in the air, and the fires wreathing Nash faded, his sword flickering again as he slowed down, all the energy in his body suddenly vanishing.

The Destruction Fan waved lazily in the air, and the floor before Nash erupted in destructive light, Nash launched backward, his body wracked by searing agony once again. Hyne's mocking laughter cut through the room.

"Whoo!" Hades cheered. "All right! You go, girl!"

Hyne looked down at the fan, and then at the battered Elemental, who shouldn't have been able to keep fighting after all the punishment she had dealt out. He had even withstood two strokes from both of her fans, and was still alive, somehow. That was certainly a testament to his resiliency and willpower.

"I think our work is done, don't you agree?" Hyne asked, and Hades nodded.

"Got the Sorceress power back, and it looks like the battle outside is over with. Guess its time to head out before Alucard figures out we're around and tries to stop us again."

"Don't . . . ." came a growl as the two Guardians turned away, and they looked back to see Nash standing up, his weapon flaring again.

"You . . . ." he hissed, the blade's light growing in intensity.

"_Walk away from me!"_ Nash shot forward, a massive plume of flame roaring out behind him, instantly setting the entire room ablaze once again as he lanced at Hyne, gunblade raised over his head as he screamed in fury.

Hyne narrowed her eyes and flicked the Void Fan at him viciously, and all the fires simply vanished, snuffed out in a puff of denial. The chamber cooled instantly, and the dark energies struck Nash in mid-motion, sending him stumbling forward on muscles that had no strength left. The light around his weapon flickered once more, and then finally faded, even the intense god-killing power unable to stand before Hyne's ultimate power. He teetered forward, his body simply stopping and going completely slack, and he fell toward Hyne.

She calmly reached up, collapsing the Destruction Fan, and letting the tip of the weapon hold up the weakened Elemental. He stared at her, his eyes full of exhausted hatred. She stared back, her expression one of mock pity.

She dropped him to the floor, letting him lay there, body no longer possessing the energy to let him stand up, and turned around, walking away.

"Man,' Hades muttered. "Full frontal assault while Hyne's got her Death Fans? That's just _stupid_." He glanced down at Nash, and walked over to the fallen Elemental, and reverted his face to his normal human visage, and grinned.

"Now you see that evil will always triumph, because _good is_ _dumb_."

With that, Hades turned away from the defeated Elemental and strode away, chuckling to himself.

* * *

In the brief time between Crell's exposure as a mad dictator and Laguna's effective reinstatement as leader of Esthar (as very few people would argue with fifty thousand angry Estharian soldiers), the Estharian troops had stormed Crell's command Fortress, sweeping through the ship and seeking either Crell or his Elemental supporters. With the Estharian army now back under his command, Laguna had emerged from his hidden hacking spot, and had met with a number of the newly arrived troops.

"Sir," one oif the officers reported. 'We've almost finished sweeping the entire ship, sir."

"Have you found Crell yet?"

"No, sir," he answered. "We've encountered a small number of his Elemental soldiers, which we overwhelmed, but it seems that they were fighting a rear-guard action. We haven't been able to locate and capture him yet."

"Damn," Laguna muttered. "That guy is a slippery bastard. Keep searching!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the heart of Balamb Garden, the three-man demolitions team that was frantically working on the bomb below was having a far better time.

"How's the detonator on your end?" one asked.

"Got it down. That should be most of the detonators in the bomb."

"These Estharians worked hard to make sure we couldn't disarm it," another remarked.

"Bah. There's no bomb we can't disarm!" the first stated.

"How much time is left?"

"I'm guessing . . . Five minutes on the timer?"

"That much? Wow. We're a lot faster than we expected."

"Got the last detonator over here. Any more?"

"Wait, there's one more over here. Gimme a second. Almost have it . . . ."

One of the techs leaned back, rubbing his eyes, and smiled. They had done it. With the last detonator taken care of the bomb would be disarmed, and Garden would be safe. He reached over to high-five one of his pair of partners.

He stopped in mid motion, and his partner let out a cry of surprise as the demo technician fell to the floor, blood erupting from his chest.

Dark, resounding laughter filled the room as the two remaining technicians scrambled for their weapons, surprised by the sudden, unexpected assault. Both men whirled to face their attacker, and froze when they saw what was facing them.

The attacker did not hesitate, however, and a moment later, the remaining two technicians, faces still locked in shock at what they had been up against, were down and dead.

* * *

Seifer watched the spot where Alucard had vanished, but the Guardian did not return. It was a long while before the knight managed to relax.

"Are you okay?" Serra asked fro behind him, and Seifer glanced back over his shoulder, and nodded. He looked to the other SeeDs all around him, who themselves were finally letting themselves relax after the grueling battles they'd all fought through. And he nodded again.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he replied. "I'm guessing that this battle is finally over, huh? Crell's beat!" Serra smiled and nodded, and Seifer felt a whole lot better simply by looking at the girl's happy expression. She was exhausted, he was bloody and battered, but they were both still alive, and that was what mattered.

His radio chirped, interrupting the peaceful moment, and Seifer frowned. He pressed his finger to his ear.

"Yeah, Almasy," he muttered.

_"This is Xu,"_ came the response. _"We've been trying to get in touch with you guys over there. I'm assuming that since Trabia is the only Garden with a working command deck now, that we're in command at the moment."_

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Seifer answered. "What's up?"

_"We just got a transmission from Balamb Garden. Looks like a distress call from Squall. Something's gone wrong over there, and he said he needed everyone to head back as soon as possible. And he wanted to see you, specifically, on the command deck. Well, you or Rinoa."_

"Why us?" Seifer asked, moving out of the courtyard quickly, toward the Garden's main entrance.

_"He didn't say,"_ she replied. _"And we would send Rinoa over too, but she's still down. Apparently she was attacked in the infirmary by someone, and collapsed. She's starting to recover, but still incapacitated."_

"Right. What about the bomb?"

_"He said that the bomb was taken care of,"_ Xu replied, and Seifer nodded. Something wasn't right about this . . . Something in his gut told the knight that the situation could be very, very wrong at that moment.

"Look, I'm going to head over there right now," Seifer explained as he exited out the front of the Garden, and saw Balamb Garden drifting closer to the edge of Galbadia Garden. He hurried to the edge of the floating ship, near where the front entrance was about to touch between the two ships.

"I'll check it out, and then call everyone else in."

"_Something wrong?"_ Xu asked, and Seifer frowned.

"No, not sure. I just want to be on the safe side. Have everyone wait for my signal before returning, okay?"

_"Right."_

The line went silent as Seifer leapt across the distance between the two Gardens as they met. He dropped down at the front entrance, which was still strewn with the corpses of the many fallen in the final Estharian charge. The knight moved forward, but paused as he neared the main entryway, where he saw a single corpse that caught his eye. For an instant, he thought it was Squall's, but he noted the different clothing, and correctly guessed that the woman was Illarra.

_Well, that ghost has been put to rest._

He progressed through the empty Garden, a bit put off by the silence within the normally active and noisy building. It seemed too amplify that faint feeling of unease Seifer was sensing in the back of his mind and in the heart of his gut.

The elevator stopped at the command deck, and Seifer stepped out. He walked toward the doors leading onto the deck, but slowed as he neared them. His instincts were screaming at him to stop and reconsider. Something was terribly _wrong_ about all this.

The doors opened at Seifer's touch, and he walked into the chamber.

"Squall?" he called. He looked around at the empty command deck, and at the shattered glass and wrecked furniture and electronics. And then jerked as he heard a sound, the whir of the small lift leading up to the command pylon dropping. Seifer saw the lift stop and, despite every instinct in him telling him to not do so, he stepped onto the platform. It immediately rose up to the top of the structure, and the controls that guided Balamb Garden.

Squall stood at the top of the pylon, looking over the controls and out the shattered glass window.

"Squall," Seifer began. "What the hell's going on around here? Something isn't right."

"That's right, Seifer," Squall answered. "Things are very wrong right now." He paused, not looking back at Seifer. "Did everyone come back?"

"Not yet," Seifer replied. "Rinoa's still unconscious, and I decided to have everyone else stay back until I knew what the problem was."

"I see," Squall replied after a second, and then he chuckled. It wasn't a normal chuckle, but one of malicious amusement, and one that set Seifer on edge. He took a step back, and found his hands grasping his sheathed weapons.

"Human instinct," Squall continued, and he started turning toward Seifer. "One of the few things that **keeps your decrepit species alive."**

Where Squall's eyes had been cut out, there were glowing white pits that suddenly flared up, the gleam reflecting off his gunblade as he drew it. Squall's voice modulated as he spoke, becoming darker, deeper, and more profound, echoing across the chamber.

The smile on his face was not a smile that Squall would have worn; it was the smile of a madman.

"What the hell are you?" Seifer snarled as he drew Hyperion and his saber.

"**Fairly obvious, isn't it, Seifer?"** Squall asked, and his laughter resounded across the chamber again.

"Griever!" Seifer hissed, and Squall's body nodded.

"**Too bad no one else came. I'll have to settle on you, then, Seifer."**

Griever suddenly shot forward, moving far faster than Seifer expected, even after having fought Alucard. Hyperion shot up, ringing solidly against the Revolver, and Seifer stared into the shining pits of Squall's eyes as Griever laughed, twisting his host's face into a sadistic grin. The Guardian Force pressed even harder against Seifer's weapon, and the sudden exertion of force sent Seifer flying backward, tumbling off the top of the command pylon.

Seifer slammed into the floor on his back, pain shooting through him as Griever leapt off the top of the pylon, dropping down toward Seifer's prone form. The knight rolled aside as Squall's body slammed down where he'd been an instant before, the Revolver buried up to its hilt in the floor. With almost casual ease, the Guardian Force ripped the blade out of the floor as Seifer flipped up onto his feet, stabbing ahead with Hyperion. The gunblade dove for Squall's face, but the Guardian Force made no move to block the attack, smiling even as the weapon stabbed at his face. Seifer jerked to a stop, bringing the blade to a halt right in front of Squall's nose.

"**That's right! You can't hurt me. Any blows you strike against me as I am will only hurt Squall."** Then, as if to emphasize the point, Griever reached up with his left hand, drew Squall's knife off its shoulder sheath, and stabbed it into his own shoulder, before wrenching it free, crimson running down the front of the SeeD's armor.

"**After all the fighting, this body's in pretty bad shape. Squall may not be able to take much abuse . . . Can you fight me, Seifer? Fight me, knowing any strike you make can kill him?"**

The Guardian slashed across with the Revolver suddenly, wielding the heavy gunblade one handed. Seifer ducked back, evading the cut, and almost rushed forward purely out of reflex, stopping himself in mid-step. Griever slashed again, another vicious one-handed chop, laughing as he did so.

"Why are you doing this?" Seifer demanded as he leapt back out of range, looking for some way, any way to battle this monster.

"**There's nothing that will tear Squall up more than to see me doing this to those he cares about. Right now, the agony he is in, the mental torment as he watches me slaughter you, and the agony he will feel when he sees me massacre Garden and then tear his friends apart one by one . . . Oh yes, that's all I need right now. Watching and feeling Squall suffer . . . That is why I do this. Isn't that reason enough?"**

Seifer stared at Griever, appalled by the monster he faced, the invincible force of pure sadism and grief, and for the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do.

* * *

Nash stood up, groaning in pain. His strength had finally returned to him, and his anger had never faded. That bastard Hades, and Hyne's Death Fans . . . He swore he was going to hunt them down and tear those two apart before he killed them.

Slowly, the Elemental moved through the deformed bay, nothing within the chamber looking as it had mere minutes before, after his overwhelming use of fire and Hyne's destructive strength with her Death Fans.

The Elemental paused as he felt something, a powerful sense of dread shooting through him. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. It felt almost like . . . Like a Guardian Force manifesting itself. And this one felt like . . .

_Oh shit, Griever!_

_

* * *

_

The Revolver cleaved in at Seifer's head, slashing down hard, and Seifer rapidly blocked, backing away, giving ground. Griever strode forward resting the gunblade on his shoulder as he advanced, not even bothering with a defense he knew he didn't need. Seifer leapt back up onto a desk and dropped behind it, looking around frantically, seeking a plan, something to use to stop this foe.

"**Stop running, you'll only die tired!"** Griever shouted, leaping over the desk. Seifer almost met him with Hyperion, but knew that the strikes would do no good, and instead snapped up hi blades as the Revolver cut across, the weapon ringing solidly against Seifer's own. Squall's body shot forward, grabbing Seifer by the front of his shirt and lifting him up. He grinned as he faced Seifer, staring at the knight with glowing pits of eyes.

The entire structure of Garden suddenly shook with a tremendous explosion, throwing the entire ship into wild vibrations and nearly throwing the two off their feet. The lights flickered and then went dark, amber emergency light clicking on and the computers around them rebooting.

"The hell-"

"**Ah, so, its done," **Griever commented. "**I was hoping that the bomb would go off while everyone else was inside the Garden, so I could kill as many as possible, but, well, I'll have to make due with things as they are."**

"The Garden-"

"**Is sinking, right now. I give it . . . About two or three minutes before it sinks all the way under the ocean."** Griever grinned wildly and then suddenly flexed his muscles, throwing Seifer up a short distance, and catching his foot as it passed. Before Seifer could do anything, Griever reared back and, with a wild, insane laugh, spun around and flung Seifer into Garden's main screen.

The glass shattered around Seifer, some of it cutting through his clothes and burying into his skin. Electricity shot through his body, and he pushed forward reflexively, hurling himself out of the gigantic screen and landing on the floor. Without pausing, and ignoring the pain, the knight scrambled forward, spinning around in time to block another rapid cleave from Griever.

_How the hell do I fight this thing?_

* * *

She stared up at the ceiling in the infirmary as a half-dozen nurses and medics tended to her. Aside from the wracking pains of Hades stealing her strength, she hadn't suffered any permanent injuries, much to everyone's relief.

Rinoa felt empty. She felt as if part of her had been torn away in an instant, and now she was left with a gaping hole. However, even with all the sudden, blatant emptiness after Hades had stolen her powers, the pain Rinoa had felt was gone. Something had been taken from her, but without the Sorceress powers, she felt so much more at ease, as if a terrible burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

The Sorceress power was gone. She was . . . Normal again. A normal person. And it felt . . . It felt _good_. It felt good to be a natural person again.

A dull rumble passed through Trabia Garden at that moment, and Rinoa, despite her exhaustion shot up in her bed, surprising the medics.

What was that?" she asked, and they looked around, uncertain. A sense of dread shot through her as she listened, and heard nothing else. The explosion had sounded like an anti-ship bomb or missile going off, and if it was in close proximity . . . .

Rinoa quickly stood up, surprising the medics. When they started to urge her to sit back down, she shooed them away, insisting she was fine. Her weakness was suddenly replaced by a spike of adrenaline and a profound sense of fear.

_Squall . . . Where is Squall?_

* * *

Seifer flew through the glass wall separating one of the briefing rooms from the main deck and rolled across the table. Griever marched across the command deck after the knight as he flopped off the far end of the long table and onto his knees, banging them hard. His radio chirped in his ear.

_"Seifer, are you there?"_ came Xu's voice.

"More or less," Seifer muttered in response.

_"What's going on over there? Have you found the problem?"_

Griever strode through the shattered glass, grinning sadistically with Squall's face.

"Squall's been possessed by Griever!" Seifer shouted over the radio. "Keep everyone back from Balamb Garden! I repeat, he's been possessed by Griever!"

_"What?"_ Xu asked, not sure she was hearing him right. He didn't respond, instead grabbing the edge of the table and throwing it up, and then running forward and kicking the table at Griever. The huge metal table flew toward the Guardian Force at the end of Seifer's junction-enhanced kick, and then flew in half as Griever chopped across, splitting the table in two.

Ads the pieces fell, Seifer rushed forward, leaping up into a double-footed kick that slammed the surprised Guardian in the chest and hurling him back out of the briefing room. Seifer started to rush after him instinctively, but then stopped as he exited the room, just in time to see Griever roll across the floor, kick up into a standing position, and charge directly at Seifer where he stood, laughing manically.

Hyperion intercepted another cut, and then Seifer's head was rocked back. The knight stumbled backwards, and Griever attacked again, slamming and kicking Seifer, fists and feet crashing into his ribs and head, pounding the knight down in a brutal flurry of impacts.

Seifer was then hauled up by a hand grasping his hair, and Griever turned his face up so he stared at the glowing white pits of Squall's face. With a sadistic grin, he headbutted Seifer, not caring for any damage that would have been done to his host. Seifer fell to the floor, dazed.

A moment later, Squall had hauled Seifer up once more left hand holding up his chin while his right hand pressed the Revolver to Seifer's throat.

"**Death and grief are inevitable,"** Griever whispered into his ear. **"But you, Seifer, you get to die alone, with only me as the last person to witness your end. Is this the glorious end you always wanted? To die a shit-like death in a ruined, sinking Garden, knowing your powerlessness in your final seconds of life?"**

"Do all you Guardians give pretentious speeches before you kill people?" Seifer muttered under his breath, and Griever chuckled. However, to the Guardian's surprise, Seifer also managed a laugh.

There was a click, and the flesh over Seifer's right hand parted, and the barrel of his single-shot .50 cal arm-mounted cannon emerged and exploded. The blast knocked the gunblade out of Griever's grasp and gave Seifer the opening he needed. He spun around, planting a rapid-fire stream of gut punches and kicks, driving the Guardian Force back, Griever snarled, and shot forward at Seifer, attacking with his bare hands. Seifer intercepted with a hilt jab from his saber that doubled Squall's body over, and a rising knee that knocked Griever backward. The Guardian stumbled back, not really hurt, but reeling from the force of Seifer's countercharge.

The Guardian, however, recovered very quickly, and turned to face Seifer, rage apparent on his features. He started striding toward the knight, and then suddenly slowed, before coming to a stop, his expression shifting to one of confusion, and then one of outrage.

"**No! You! This body is mine now!"**

Seifer dashed forward in the middle of Griever's pause, and slammed the Guardian hard with another blow from his hilt, coming to a sudden understanding of what was happening. The impact his the distracted Guardian, and sent him flopping backward onto the floor.

"Squall! Fight him! Don't give in to him!" Griever looked to Seifer as he spoke, and started to stand, rushing toward the knight. Once again, he slowed, and as Seifer watched, the light in Squall's destroyed eyes started to dim. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees, and reached up to his head, shaking it and growling in defiance, protesting the renewed mental assault that was driving him back.

Several long moments later, Griever leaned his head forward, and the light faded. After another couple of seconds, the man looked up, and there was no glow in his eyes or rage in his face. There was only exhaustion.

"Seifer . . . " Squall whispered. He stumbled toward the wounded knight as Seifer walked forward, toward the battered SeeD Commander.

"Is that you?" Seifer asked. "You for real?"

"Yeah . . . ." Squall answered tiredly. "I . . . I can't hold him back for long. His willpower is . . . Incredible . . . ." A faint flicker of light shot through his eyes again, and Squall gritted his teeth, fighting back and driving Griever down.

"Come on, we have to get you back," Seifer said walking toward Squall. He grabbed the SeeD by his shoulder, but Squall suddenly pushed him away.

"No!" Squall hissed, his voice suddenly pained. He shook his head. "No." He sighed deeply and profoundly, and tried to stand straight. Blood was still seeping from his left shoulder, which was almost limp.

"If I go back, Griever will take over again eventually," he explained. "He was . . . Waiting for this moment . . . ."

"The Garden is sinking, Squall!" Seifer said. "We have to get out of here-"

"I know that!" Squall answered forcefully. "That's. . . why I have to stay. Griever . . He'll . . . do it all over again . . . ."

"I . . . I understand," Seifer whispered as he truly did know, at that moment, what Squall was saying.

"My gunblade," he whispered, nodding to the Revolver. He the reached up with his right hand and drew his silver necklace from around his throat. He reached out with shaking fingers, and Seifer took it.

"Give them to Rinoa," he whispered. "Go. Get out of here."

Seifer took the chain, and walked past the SeeD as he stumbled toward a chair in front of one of the working monitors. He sat down, and his right hand started hitting keys on the keyboard slowly. Seifer slowly scooped up Squall's heavy gunblade, and looked down at the etched lion on the steel blade.

"Squall," Seifer said, looking back at the SeeD.

"Go," Squall rasped. "I . . . Have to stay. I have to protect everyone from myself." He looked over at Seifer with his eyeless gaze, and the look on his face and the final words he spoke would haunt Seifer for the rest of his sleepless nights.

_"I have to die now."_

Seifer stared at Squall's features, and he knew that the SeeD knew what had to be done. Slowly, Seifer nodded. He took the chain and the gunblade in his left hand, and for the first time in many years, Seifer saluted Squall. The SeeD Commander stared at him, uncertain how to respond, before nodding and slowly raising his own shaking right hand.

"Goodbye, Squall," Seifer whispered, and turned, running toward the shattered window, leaving the ruined Garden and its ruined Commander to perform his final duties.

* * *

Rinoa stared out the front of Trabia Garden's command deck, at Balamb Garden as it sank down into the ocean. The horror on her face was evident; she'd caught the end of the conversation between Seifer and Xu, before his radio had cut off. Now she watched the sinking ship with ever growing dread and fear for Squall's safety.

"There's someone leaving the command deck!" came a shout, and Rinoa saw someone jump out the window of the deck and splash into the ocean a short distance out from and beneath the deck, as Balamb Garden slipped further into the ocean. She saw a flash of white trenchcoat, and knew that Seifer was alive. But was he fleeing, or was he leading Squall to safety?

"Transmission from Balamb Garden!" came a call. "Someone's using the emergency band! Its being transmitted to all the ships that can pick it up!"

"Put it on," Xu ordered, and the main screen shifted, to show Squall's haggard, eyeless face. Cuts and bruises pockmarked his features, his short beard stained in some places by blood. He looked into the camera.

"Rinoa?" he called, his voice exhausted.

"Squall!" Rinoa called. She ran to the nearest computer displaying his image, and one of the technicians quickly rerouted outgoing signals to the camera over that computer, so Squall could see her.

"Squall, its me!" she said quickly, sitting down. She leaned forward, relief flooding her as she saw his face, and his smile as he heard her voice. His exhaustion was replaced by a peaceful look, serene and happy.

"We did it, Rinoa," he told her. "Its over. We won." She smiled again as he spoke.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Balamb Garden's command deck," he explained. He paused, and exhaustion began to creep back into his voice.

"Why aren't you leaving?" Rinoa asked. He was silent for several moments, and Rinoa's face shifted to one of worry. "Squall? Why . . . Why aren't you leaving?"

"I can't leave," he answered. She stared at the screen for several long moments, and then glanced out the window, seeing the water creeping up the side of the structure, rising over the second level.

"But . . . But you said-"

"Griever isn't . . . ." He stopped, sniffing the air faintly. "I can't come back. To come back would . . . Griever will kill everyone through me if I come back."

"No . . . ." Rinoa's words were choked as she spoke them. She shook her head, trying to deny what he was saying.

"I can't come back," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Rinoa . . . ."

"No!" she screamed, slamming her fists down on the keyboard. "No! You have to . . . You have to come back . . ."

"I can't," he responded quietly. She looked at his face, and saw the intense regret spreading across his features, and how he lowered his head slightly. "I . . . I fought to protect everyone. Illarra lost her mind. She wanted the kill everyone. I had to stop her. And now, Griever . . . He's going to use me to kill everything I love."

"We can stop him," Rinoa said, her eyes watering. She started to attempt to hold back the tears, tears of denial, but they started flowing despite her best efforts. "We . . . We can stop him together . . . ."

"No, Rinoa," he said. He was silent for several long moments, and shook his head. "This is a battle I have to fight alone."

"You can't . . . you can't leave me . . . ."

"I'm so sorry, Rinoa," he answered. "So very sorry. I wanted to see our daughter grow up. I wanted to live the rest of my life with you. But . . . ."

He was silent, and watched her as she started sobbing, tears running down her face. He reached forward and touched the screen in front of him, and slowly, she did so as well. He stared at her with his eyeless gaze, and smiled.

"I love you, Rinoa," he whispered.

"I love you too, Squall," she answered through the tears.

" . . . . Good-bye."

The screen went dead.

* * *

The water flowed in around Squall, creeping in through the broken glass. Squall turned around, and looked across the command deck, his ankles splashing in the icy waters.

_**So, this is how it ends?**_

Squall's response came as the icy waters rose up around his knees.

_Now and forever, Griever. You will never harm another through me._

_**Hm. If that is how it has to be. This is quite the . . . Disappointment. The hero dies at the end of his saga?**_

_Who said this was the end?_

_**An interesting answer. Your story will end if you continue down this path . . . .**_

_There is no damn story. There is no final fantasy. There's only life. And through my death, I save all others._

_**Erudite, Commander. But at least I can savor this fact: through your death, you will cause tremendous grief.**_

_Not as much as you would have caused, Griever._

_**But I yet win.**_

_No._

_**How so?**_

_They will grow beyond that grief. They will continue on without me, and will not look back at my death with sadness. They will remember me as the man I was when I lived, not the man I was as I died._

The water was rising up past Squall's chest.

_Grief is not eternal. Love and joy are. That is something you've never grasped, Griever._

_**Indeed. This will be something to ponder during eternity, I suppose.**_

The water began to rise to Squalls neck, and he leaned his head back. For some reason, griever did not speak as he looked up, his Zanshin sight giving him an impeded view of the sky as the water flowed up past his chin, his mouth, his nose, his scarred eyes . . . . And then engulfed Squall Leonhart.

_Goodbye, Rinoa. I'll be waiting . . . Wherever I'll be . . . ._


	29. Blood Epilogue: ShadowNet

_**Epilogue/Blood: ShadowNet**_

The man sat back, exhausted. He lay back in the comfortable chair, closing his burning eyes, and stilled his breath. He had to take stock of the situation.

He poured a finger of whiskey from a small, treasured bottle he'd kept with him for a long time, and raised the small crystal cup he kept the alcohol within. He stared at the amber liquid for several long moments, and sighed, before taking a drink from the cup.

"casualties?" he asked quietly.

"Three hundred and seventeen Elemental soldiers KIA," answered the burly form of Eric Malachi on the other side of the desk. "And an additional loss of five hundred and twelve human loyalists. And your daughter."

Crell Varines shook his head, taking another sip. He glanced up at the loyal soldier before him and, in a candid moment, he reached forward, offering the man the bottle. Malachi seemed to consider it, before politely shaking his head and declining.

"No thank you, sir," he responded. Crell watched him for a moment, and noted the sour demeanor of the soldier, who seemed to have taken the last battle very badly.

"You did the best you could, Eric," Crell said after a moment. "The bomb did go off, and Balamb Garden was destroyed. That decrepit structure has been on the sea bed outside Balamb Harbor for two weeks. You did your best."

"It was not enough, sir," the soldier responded. "We did not win that battle."

"That was my fault," Crell replied quietly. "Mine and mine alone." he shook his head. "But regardless, we are not out of the game yet. This is merely a set back."

"Yes sir," Malachi responded. Crell stared at him for a second, and poured another finger.

"I am sorry that Illarra died," he continued quietly, and the soldier nodded silently. "She was my daughter, and despite her . . . Eccentricities, she will be sorely missed."

"Yes sir," Malachi replied. Crell caught the tightness in his words, and knew where they came from. His subordinate had discipline and control, but even with all of that, he couldn't deny that he was human, and Crell knew that the man had possessed personal feelings toward Illarra, but had been too controlled to let them be known.

"Have we received reports from the salvage teams?" Crell asked after a moment, and Malachi nodded.

"It took them some time," he explained, "but they were able to get past enemy security and enter the wreckage of Balamb Garden."

"And did they find it?" Crell asked, leaning forward slightly, almost in anticipation. Malachi nodded.

"They found the body," he replied.

"Excellent," Crell whispered, sitting back. "This means that all can progress as we need it to. And what of the ShadowNet?"

"Discrete transceivers have been set up in all major cities and at strategic locations across Trabia, Esthar, Galbadia, Balamb, and Dollet. Current tests indicate that the transmissions are being undetected by standard Garden, Galbadian, Dollet, and Estharian intelligence agency interception systems."

"Then we're able to talk with all of the shards of our glass dagger with impunity," Crell stated, and Malachi nodded. "Excellent. What are the reports from the cells?"

"They've already received the messages," Malachi stated. "Our troops are moving o the hidden supply caches, and our surviving elements from the battle outside Balamb are assembling in various sites across the globe. The army should be ready to move in the next few weeks."

"And then our foes will have to walk through streets of blood," whispered Crell with a sadistic smile. "And Odine?"

"The Doctor and his surviving staff have relocated to the labs set up in the Centra Crater, just south of here," the soldier said with a nod. "they have already begun the next phase of the Elemental project."

"Have we scouted out the potentials?" Crell asked, and Malachi nodded.

"We have close to a thousand people at the moment who will make good candidates for the project," he stated. "That number grows every day."

"We'll soon have an army of unstoppable Elementals," Crell murmured, grinning. He took another sip of his whiskey. "Are you sure you don't want any?"

"No, thank you," Malachi replied.

"And now, for one more question," Crell said, leaning forward. "Have we had any contact with Hyne in the last two weeks?"

"None, sir. Both Hyne and Hades seem to have disappeared."

"She couldn't have been killed," Crell whispered. "But where is she?"

"Hyne has abandoned you," came a voice at the entrance to the office, and both men looked up in surprise. Malachi drew a knife, while Crell reached under his desk for a pistol, but both stopped when the figure raised his hands, indicating peaceful intentions.

"You plan, and Hyne's, do not intersect," he continued. "This moment is where Hyne abandons you for her own goals."

"Who are you?" Crell demanded.

"How about I put it this way," the man answered, stepping forward. "Hyne's objectives ended the moment the Prototype was created, and from then on, she never supported you except out of detached amusement."

"So, we were Hyne's puppets?' Malachi scoffed.

"Indeed."

"So why are you here?" Crell demanded. "and more importantly, who are you?"

"For the first question, I will give you a simple answer. Garden and the other allied nations serve to protect the Prototype your scientists developed. That Prototype must die. You are the people who can most help me toward that end."

"And my second question?" Crell asked, and the man before them chuckled, smoke emanating from his pipe.

"My name is Alucard. Guardian of Existence." he bowed slightly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, gentlemen."

**_To be concluded . . . ._**

* * *

-

* * *

Yep. Short Epilogue of sorts, foreshadowing the future!

So. That's it for Blood of the Chimera. But, this is far from the ending of the story! After all, the Legacy of the Chimera lives on . . . .

Next "chapter" will be on author's notes and a certain interview one of my reviewers made with me regarding this story.

Until next chapter . . . .


	30. Blood Commentary

_**Author's Notes and Chapter Commentary**_

Well, welcome to the special edition limited release DVD extras of Blood of the Chimera!

This fic's been about seven months in the writing and several years in the making. I first developed the basic ideas way back before I first wrote Gunblade, in a huge epic work I had entitled Foreshadow. Too bad I had no idea what I was digging into, and Foreshadow flopped badly while I was writing it because it was too complex for me at the time. I was the young student trying to learn the master's deadliest techniques, so to speak :P/ Finally, after finishing Gunblade, I felt I had the skills to write this truly epic work I had been percolating in my mind for over three years.

Its seen a lot of changes and revisions, and a few twists even I wasn't expecting when I first started it, but now its edging to completion, and I'm very happy with how its progressed. I would be shocked that I wrote something this complex (and oftentimes, I do look back at my work and stare, amazed that someone like me could have written this stuff) except I've written Gunblade already.

Not to mention that you readers keep inflating my ego like its nobody's business :P

Perhaps the best way to comment on this saga is to go chapter by chapter, eh?

-Prologue: As I said before, I used the character profiles from Guilty Gear XX as my primary inspiration for Crell's reviewing of the various characters. This was a deliberate effort to add a new spin on the annoyingly over-used idea of "character profiles' in many bad fics I've encountered. I wanted to show how one can integrate character profiles directly into the story one is writing, rather than simply write out profiles.

Also, not surprisingly, but no one noticed how I more or less used the tavern talk in Pirates of the Caribbean as the starting point for writing Ramuh and Alucard's meeting :P

-Guardians: The first couple of chapters in many good stories serve to set up and establish the world one works within. That was the primary objective of Guardians, which was designed to establish Alucard's character, set up the world situation, and prepare us for what would become the roller-coaster of action over the next dozen and more chapters.

-Impend: Impend was tremendously heavy on the action, which served to show off the exact nature of the enemy the heroes were up against, while at the same time shadowing their true intent. I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Anyone who's read the Halo novels might note a reference in one of the crew members….

-Duress: This chapter was where the plot began to pick up. I'm sure many people were all "Oh shit!" when Illarra threatened Squall like she did. And of course, there was the part where Selphie and Irvine began their mission, and ended up smack in the middle of Resident Evil 4 in the middle of winter. I tried a bit of a stab at psychological and paranormal horror with the destroyed cabin and the terrified note written by the dead hunter, and the image of the ghostly Serra in the distance.

-Betrayal: I think it was right about here that I decided to go ahead and write all my chapter titles with one word. Unfortunately, that got to be problematic in the later chapters, finding one word to describe each chapter correctly.

This chapter was where the first and second seasons of 24 really started to show in how I was beginning this story. Squall was very similar to Jack Bauer in how he responded to and was ultimately forced to work with someone intent of ruining his life. Furthermore, at this point, you really did get to see the depth to which the conspiracy was spreading, in the seemingly friendly Estharian soldiers suddenly turning out to be the enemy . . . .

-Treachery: On Squall's side, there was more turmoil, while on Selphie and Irvine's side, there was more running for their lives. It was in this chapter and the next few ones that I wanted the tension to keep steadily growing as I'd alternate between each character's plotline.

I was very interested in introducing Serra. Information on her real story was kept tightly controlled by me, because I wanted people to be uncertain as to who and what she was. The subsequent speculation that I got on who she was turned out to be very rewarding to hear. I loved listening to people's theories.

Ultimately, the pinnacle of this chapter was the moment where Squall was about to kill Cid. I wanted to keep using the words "Forgive me" as kind of a repeating phrase throughout the story, a theme Squall would continuously say. The fact that Nash says it later was a subtle attempt at nudging that he really was Squall.

-Ensnared: The intrigue grows and the intensity continued in this chapter as Squall has to realize he's been ordered to escape Garden to do even more nefarious deeds for his enemies. In this chapter, and upcoming ones, I knew that I was going to have to synchronize the events of Zell's storyline with Squall's, as Zell would be the one to rescue Ellone and stop Squall from assassinating the world leaders. I had to be very delicate with the storyline progression in the next few chapters….

-Contained: I did want to establish the enmity between Malachi and Simmons here. While they had butted heads in previous chapters, here it became almost violent, which really helped to set off the mood of conflicting interests within the conspiracy.

I had also been watching Die Hard while writing this chapter, so that one particular quote stuck out to me.

And then, at the end, we have Seifer's awesome introduction as the Governor. I was really looking forward to writing that bit, especially showing how savage Seifer could be in that state.

-Stillness: Squall vs. Garden! Whoo! I lived doing this chapter, simply because it was Squall, all alone, with no backup, against his own Garden, and even against his own will. Squall going against Garden was something I wanted to dabble in, and writing him on his own was interesting, especially when he had to fight to escape from his own allies.

And of course, this chapter had a few Die Hard references that were fun to put in as well.

The lead-up to the assassination attempt came to me while I was writing this chapter, and I imagined it cinematically as very similar to 24's split-screen events depicting action.

Malachi and Zell's duel, both in this chapter and the next, was heavily inspired by Resident Evil 4. And I think I fooled everyone with Lex's "death". Come on, you really thought I'd kill someone that cool? Oh, wait, I killed Squall. That's right. Nevermind.

-Motion: This chapter had been preplanned before the story had even begun, designed as the climax of the events that in that day, where Squall lead up to the final charge and faced off against Randolph. I really wanted it to be one of those wrenching moments, where Squall is horribly torn between duty and his personal wishes.

-Sandman: Ah, and finally, a slaughter in the making over nearly ten chapters! Squall was pissed here, and I wanted to really show how he was so far above the mooks he was mercilessly slaughtering. And of course, we also got the see Alucard really fight, and then get the first real face-to-face encounter with Illarra, which asked as many questions as it answered.

-Audience: This chapter saw the introduction of a brand-new villain, with sinister designs. I definitely wanted this chapter to tie up the chase through the Trabian woods and solidly put the heroes into Iceblood prison, and of course define Serra as a friendly character and solidify the enemy's purpose and aims.

This also saw the introduction of one plot line I hated that I couldn't follow up on, which was Zell and Ellone. That relationship was heavily relegated to the background, unfortunately.

-Declaration: Declaration was a chapter very heavy on dialogue and less on violent action. Its was definitely made to develop characters and advance plot. One of the most important parts was at the beginning, where Squall and Rinoa mention, in passing, their stillborn daughter. Oh, the connotations of that statement, heh.

This chapter also saw the furthering of the relationship between Quistis and Alucard, as well as mentioned some of the background regarding Unbound Guardian Forces. This chapter was heavy on the use of the interrogation rooms, a s it was what was intended to develop conflicts between Squall and Illarra and confirm critical information, such as the importance of Iceblood and precisely who the traitor was.

And then there was the big cheer when Martine was revealed as Garden's traitor. I loved writing that moment, myself.

And following this was the essential scene where Crell made his real move, and started up a new world war.

-Iceblood: Iceblood saw the critical introduction of Iceblood Prison, which would become the central site of several critical events later on. I liked writing the Warden, as well as introducing our mysterious new scientist badass, Nash. Irvine suffered some of the same Metal Gear treatment Squall had in earlier chapters, and Selphie…..well, we know what happened to her.

Not to mention we had another look into the Governor's mind, and his prophetic dreams about Serra. And we also saw the introduction of a very small but very troublesome vial of Guardian Force essence . . . .

-Lines: This chapter title came from the fact that it drew the lines between the heroes and the villains. First Balamb Garden rallying behind Squall, then Galbadia Garden turning to their side, followed by Galbadia and Dollet joining forces to fend off the pursuing Estharians. Not to mention that this chapter also included a very pissed off Squall choking the hell out of Martine:P

And poor Irvine, suffering first through torture and interrogation, then more Solid Snake-style prolonged plot exposition and backstory. Even when he's just listening, the poor guy never gets a break.

-Directional: And Irvine's still getting smacked in the head by more plot exposition. Poor fellow. A lot of stuff had to be covered here, regarding the Elemental Project's basis, founding, Nash's involvement, and the ultimate objective, the Requiem armor. Heh. Bet ya'll forgot about that thing, didn't you?

Aside from that, this chapter also required redirecting the heroes toward other avenues, including moving SeeDs and Galbadian and Dollet forces to defend Trabia Garden, as well as determine the exceptionally necessary bit where Squall goes into Iceblood by himself.

-Government: This chapter saw a critical and extremely badass revelation regarding Nash. I loved covering that moment, when Nash went from just a scientist who looked oddly like Squall to a total badass wielding pure flame as his main weapon.

Aside from that revelation, however, the real purpose behind this was to get everyone where they needed to before the next critical parts of the plot, as well as finally reveal Seifer for what he was: the Governor of the Undercity.

-Assault: This chapter had the essential purpose of finally having a whole lot of ass-kicking after a lot of non-ass-kicking chapters. Well, that and it revealed our little creepy girl as none other than Hyne herself. But that wasn't really all that important, compared with the copious amounts of ass-kicking.

And uhh, Squall lost an eyes and got his ass kicked by Illarra, too. I forgot about that.

-Awakened: In case anyone was wondering, the voice at the beginning of this chapter was Diablos, and he was very pissed off.

Aside from Diablos' escape, there wasn't a whole lot of action this chapter, just a breather leading up to the critical battle against the advancing Estharian army, as well as introducing Hyne as a true villain, and establishing Griever as a not-nice person.

And, y'know, that whole "Squall injecting himself with Griever" thing.

-Killzone: Killzone saw the battle really begin in earnest, as Quistis and Alucard fought Hades and Hyne, Squall battled Illarra, Selphie and Irvine and Nash and Seifer tackled Iceblood and Diablos, and Rinoa and Zell kicked a lot of ass up and down the battlefield.

There was a surprising amount of exposition this chapter. The fight between Squall and Illarra was a lot like Liquid and Solid's final battle in MGS, where the two would battle for a bit, there would be exposition, more fighting, more exposition, etc.

And then, at the end, Griever makes himself heard, and hurts Squall all bad-like. Big meany.

-Zanshin: Seifer reveals his nifty arm, Squall kicks Illarra's ass, Rinoa owns Veronica, and Zell homeruns Malachi with a Warthog. This chapter simply kicked ass. Nothing more to say.

-Reunion: I wanted to really show Rinoa's full power as a Sorceress, and here was where it was shown. Rinoa owning the two Flying Fortresses rocked to write. Aside from that, we had some nice exposition, including Seifer and Serra. I really wanted to establish his protectiveness over her, as it would come out later on in the scene where she saved everyone with her magic and in the fight against Alucard.

-Assertion: A nice, dialogue heavy chapter after all the battles and war and death. I liked handling this chapter, as there were several essential scenes that needed to be handled, not the least among them was the final reunion between all of the main FFVIII cast. It may have not occurred to anyone, but this chapter is the first time the entire crew was gathered together again in the story.

Nash's bit with Alucard was a fun piece to write, as it generated some questions that had a lot of people confused, specially that bit about being a SeeD.

And more brain-killing plot exposition. It never ends.

Illarra's bit of insanity was something I enjoyed handling. I always like it when a villain flies off the deep end in a laughing slew of raging insanity.

And Griever shows he's an asshole, and his words foreshadow the ending to this story. That moment was essential, as it showed Squall what Griever was really capable of and not only willing, but gleefully wanting, to do to him.

And then, at the end, we have the somewhat shocker where Serra's lineage is revealed! Though anyone paying attention would have noted the subtle clues I had left lying about.

-Briefing: I had a hell of a time trying to determine the order in which this chapter would progress, with the briefing going somewhere in the middle. But then I decided to set up the briefing so that, with each part of Squall's explanation, it would cut to the relevant characters and whatever was happening before or after the briefing itself.

-Legion: The first half of this chapter was lead-up, as it generally is with many of my war chapters. I had to establish how everyone was preparing for combat, as well as prepare each character's position and show how the Garden forces were readying for battle as well.

This chapter was also essential to show that Rinoa's use of her power had its limits, and that she couldn't just stand back and blast the enemy to pieces at will. Too much use of that power would knock her unconscious or even kill her.

The charge at Galbadia Garden was something I very much enjoyed depicting. The horrific carnage in that attack was intense, visceral, and enjoyable. Like what would have happened at helm's Deep if the elves and men had machineguns instead of bows :P

Crell's surprising trap was something I had planned out a few chapters back, in the middle of Iceblood. I suddenly had the image of him pulling a Palpatine, and I loved the thought.

-Hellfire: This chapter saw further havoc and chaos. Zell went berserk, Rinoa nearly killed herself, Selphie blew things up, and Nash confronted Hyne, with the massive, shocking revelation that not only had he come from an alternate timeline, but that he was actually Squall from that alternate timeline. Crazy, huh?

Oh, and Illarra turned into a dragon. Didn't matter much though.

-Noontide: This chapter was named after a song off the Guilty Gear soundtrack, specifically, the one for when Ky and Sol fight. It just sounds really epic and appropriate.

The part of this chapter I most loved writing was Squall telling Griever to shut up, followed by Squall punking Illarra's dragon form and crashing into the upper levels of Balamb Garden.

Another element I enjoyed was Serra's full release of all her power, utterly annihilating the attacking Estharians, and then Laguna revealing to every one of the attacking soldiers that they had been completely deceived by a mad dictator. "Owned bitch!" was one of the best moments in writing the entire story, I would say.

And then, just when you thought it was over, Alucard steps in with his own calculated bit of animosity.

-Griever: Though this chapter only really covered three real battles, it was massive and took forever to write. I was literally improvising off the top of my head as I wrote some parts, with the only set and certain points being that Illarra was going to die, Griever was going to rise up, and the entire FFVIII cast was going to rush in to stop Alucard.

They say that for the audience to feel emotion in a work, the author has to feel emotion while writing. I think this happened here in this chapter, for I truly did feel both sorry and glad when I finally laid Illarra down to rest, and when Squall said goodbye to Rinoa and Seifer and was speaking with Griever about his upcoming death, I was moved to tears even as I typed.

In order to capture the sorrow of Squall's death, I recalled the ending to Armageddon, where Stamper was speaking with his daughter right before he prepared to blow the nukes and save the world, taking his own life in the process. I cried (yes, not ashamed to admit it!) when that scene came on, and I recreated that scene with Squall and Rinoa in my head as I wrote their goodbyes.

And at the end, Squall told Rinoa he would be waiting, just as he had in the flower field. I felt that tied it all up very nicely.

Toward the end of the fic, Kaiser, now a good online friend of mine, got in touch with me. He had an idea for interviewing me, like a reporter or TV show host, asking questions about the story I was writing. We had done something similar after Gunblade saga, though that interview was unfortunately lost. The good news is, this one hasn't been lost, and we finished it! So, since this would help show more insight into the story, and because Kaiser won't stop bugging me until I post it, here it goes in with the commentary.

**Two Madman Talk**

_"Hi there, and welcome to this hall of knowledge, passion, love, friendship, a and courage! Whatever! My name is Kaiser, and with me is the man responsible for making us injure our necks for containing our breath too long! He is also guilty of our orthopedic diseases for sitting in the edge of our seats too long! Stand forth and speak, O Peptuck!"_

Peptuck: What up niggas?

_"First than everything, Peptuck. How did you feel when you completed The Gunblade Saga, and how did those feelings transformed in the first ideas for Blood of the Chimera?"_

Peptuck: Gunblade was...well, it was an amazing feeling to finish that. An incredible sense of accomplishment. I imagine finishing that was what it was like for George Lucas to finish the first Star Wars trilogy, so to speak. I was almost overwhelmed when I finished writing that saga. but I've already said my piece on that in Gunblade.

When I finished Gunblade, I felt like I needed to continue on. The characters I designed for Gunblade, I felt, would work very nicely if further explored and developed in another saga. I had recently finished reading "The Omega" by Daz Shier, and his massive work inspired me to write an epic of my own. I had already started fleshing out ideas for what would become Chimera while writing Gunblade, so when the first story ended, I almost had a basic storyline framework set-up for the new story. It didn't take long from the end of Gunblade to the beginning of Chimera.

_"It looked like an evolutive writing. Your style improved clearly from the beginning of one to the other. What inspired you to such development?"_

Peptuck: Mostly my own personal growth from within. I matured a lot from the beginning of Gunblade to the end of it, and that may have been reflected in how the quality of writing improved. Similarly, Chimera saw me getting better and better as I advanced.

_"And do tell something.. did you plan the brilliant plot from the beginning, or did you work it from a general idea?"_

Peptuck: A general core idea, for the most part. I had wanted to create an amalgamation of different cool ideas; the genetic conspiracies of Metal Gear, the intense spy games or 24, the high-powered fighting and imaginative storyline of Guilty Gear, the biological weapons of Resident Evil, etc. I combined that with the concept of epic-level action like there was in The Omega. These concepts ultimately came together to form the core of Chimera's storyline.

Certain elements were preplanned; Hyne being a villain was one of them, and Illarra's background was another. The character of Nash was already present, but I tweaked him as time went by to make him into a Squall from an alternate timeline. The war was planned out in advance, although in the original draft it was going to be a Return Of the King-style siege and invasion of Dollet. Crell's trap was nonexistent in the original draft; the same held true for Hades and Malachi; whom I added into the plot as time went past. Squall being blinded wasn't even considered for some time, but then I had the idea of Zanshin and integrated that as well. Griever as a villain wasn't really an idea for a while, either.

That said, the core of the storyline still hasn't been completely touched yet. The Requiem armor, and Serra's true purpose, as well as certain other elements (such as the real reason Nash wears that bandana) will be revealed in the sequel.

_"Soo.. what was the general ideas and expectations about Blood of the Chimera?_"

Peptuck: I wanted to make a fun, action-filled, intense epic with a lot of surprises, twists, and turns. Several ideas I had turned clichéd concepts in fanfiction on their heads, especially Hyne and Griever, and Nash's backstory. Originally I expected it to be about twenty chapters in length, but the plot kind of got away from me for a while there! (laughs) That said, I did work in some classic clichés into the saga. Whether these too will be turned on their heads is something I leave the reader to find out in the upcoming chapters.

_"Nooow.. we all know a good story can be reduced to crap without a good development of the characters. Let's talk a little about the epic cast of this epic story."_

Peptuck: Sure thing.

_"Aye, let's begin with Squall. It was noticeable the change between the Squall at the beginning of Chimera from the Squall at the Beginning of Gunblade. He looked not only stronger, but also more confident and mature, and most important, more relaxed and easy-going.. only a little!"_

Peptuck: Well, kicking the crap out of a Sorceress from beyond time tends to do that for a man. He has grown up a lot from when he was in Gunblade; remember, its been three years since the end of Gunblade. He's got Rinoa, he's experienced the rigors of command, he's fought through and persevered over some very traumatic experiences. He's even had to deal with the grief of his daughter's death. Overall, he's a much stronger person, a much more solid individual who I wanted as my main character.

_"Rinoa also changed. Apart from her new enormous powers, she looked far more confident and powerful than before. It was kinda... frightening to imagine such power coming from a cute little girl like her."_

Peptuck: Rinoa definitely has a tremendous degree of magical power that kept scaling up and up as the saga progressed. However, as you can see, it had a detrimental effect on her, almost killing her. She, too as a lot more confident as a person; she's been through the same stuff as Squall and has grown up a few years into a woman, no longer just a bratty teenager.

_"It was.. well, I was going to say odd, but I guess it's natural to look at Selphie in amazement. Such a small girlie is capable of being such a wrecking ball of frigid destruction.. what made you decide she would fit better with Shiva.. apart from the hilarious tongue scene with Irvine?"_

Peptuck: I wanted to use characters based on the basic elements, and since Selphie not only came from Trabia but also is a magic specialist, and I always viewed Shiva as being an appropriate fit for her, I gave her the Shiva Elemental. it simply seemed fitting in my eyes. Of the three starting characters in FFVIII, Squall, Zell, and Selphie, Squall fits with Queztocotl, Zell with Ifrit, and Selphie with Shiva.

_"Irvine himself.. it's strange how one can be capable of taking on an entire enemy base with lots of guns, and has trouble reuniting the courage to tell a girl he likes her."_

Peptuck: There's different kinds of bravery! (laughs) Irvine shows this most clearly. A man can be willing to lay down his life against impossible odds, but still not be able to bare his soul to one he loves. I've experienced this myself, and I wanted to express that in Irvine to develop the Irvine/Selphie relationship.

_"And Quistis.. it looks like her character has also grown stronger, but she still seems to be fighting with her inner demons."_

Peptuck: I will say that Quistis is the hardest character for me to write, both in terms of personality and fighting style. She does have a degree of inner demons and problems to kill, but she is the most stable of the cast, I believe. Much of her development in Chimera was centered around her dynamic with Alucard, which I'm surprised no one caught on to for a long time.

_"NOW! Something I really wanted to ask about. Zell. Zell and Ellone. Zell and Malachi. But most of all, Zell. He… hasn't changed much, has he? Still the same devastation thunderbolt as before?"_

Peptuck: Zell's a very straightforward character who doesn't need a lot of development. I love the guy. He's easy to write and easy to handle. Zell and Ellone came about because I was considering a way to develop his character, and I then realized that, in the plot, he's the one who saves Ellone. That seemed a natural jumping point for a relationship.

_"My favorite moment in Chimera is, by far, Zell's almost pre-destined duel with Malachi on the Ellone rescue. It was just extraordinarily timed, and unpredictable. It's only when they're face to face when you see they're just the perfect opponents. I listened to the "Motorcycle Chase" theme from Final Fantasy VII while reading it, and it fit the scene perfectly."  
_  
Peptuck: I sincerely enjoyed writing that. The battle was heavily inspired by the catwalk fight between Leon and Krauser in Resident Evil 4. It was a very tense duel, one where I believe the reader finally began to grasp the enormity of the plot against Garden.

_"Now, a very pleasant surprise is to see that Seifer is still alive and kickin'.. specially if he's in the good guys' side. How much has he changed since his fall in Gunblade?"_

Peptuck: He had to battle a lot of inner demons and deal with his guilt. I made a bit of a joke about that in "Briefing" where Seifer comments he went through a lot of shit the lazy author didn't want to write about :P

As it is, he's developed into a better person. Still an asshole at times, but as you can clearly see with the way he acted around Irvine, Selphie, and Serra, that he's definitely become a better person.

_"As for Laguna.. it was both surprising and expected when he executed Simmons in the spot. Don't mess with him, huh?"_

Peptuck: No. Laguna may come off as a goofy person, but when its time to get serious, he gets very, very serious.

_"How did you felt about the secondary characters?.. Ellone, Raijin, Fujin, Xu, Cid..?"_

Peptuck: I wish I could have developed them better. They weren't important except for certain parts (padding the numbers in the running base battle, providing another commander for Garden, stopping Squall from killing Cid, etc.) and they aren't well-developed in the game. Plus with all the heroes and the villains and the random events going on, I had a hard time juggling so many characters without handling the minor ones! XD

_"What happened to Angelo this time?"_

Peptuck: Damn aliens. They kidnapped her again.

"_Geez."_

Peptuck: Well, Angelo is just a dog. A very badass dog, but a dog. She's not a fighter, and in the high-intensity scenes of Chimera, she likely wouldn't have survived very long. So, I left her out.

_"And now, it's time to talk about the new people, beginning with the 'OMG IS A SHE-SQUALL'. What're your comments about the rampaging' loony, Illarra?"_

Peptuck: She was a central character from the start. I always had the idea of one of the main bad guys being a sworn enemy of Squall, a very Liquid Snake-styled character who, quite simply, hates Squall through and through for what they perceived were wrongs done to them. The character concept evolved until I settled on a female character who had entered such a state of hate-filled psychosis that she deliberately modeled herself after Squall to mock him. Eventually, as the plot was refined and the Chimera genes background became more clear, she became directly related to him as a second cousin.

Her personality always remained the same, at the core: insane, psychotic, wildly shifting mood swings, and getting almost sexually aroused by watching Squall kill and by watching him suffer. She's sickeningly obsessed with hurting him, although as the story progressed, her attitude changed to a general hatred of all of humanity. Her actions are irrational and erratic, and at times almost random. (Incidentally, this makes for a great plot device. Need something weird to happen? Illarra did it. Why? She's bonkers, she doesn't need a reason! )

Ultimately, the two characters that I most heavily modeled her after are Liquid Snake from Metal Gear and Justice from Guilty Gear. Both are obsessed, insane, psychotic, and in Justice's case, bent on total genocide.

_"And from her goes the rest of the family.. Nash DID resulted as a big, bad surprise. I mean, it's not everyday you see a badass human hado-ken revealing to be a badass.. eh.. 'OMG HE IS ANOTHER SQUALL'. How was this character born?"_

Peptuck: I'm not entirely at liberty to say at the moment, because not everything about Nash has been revealed! Going into his core concept would be a big spoiler, I think. But suffice it to say, his character has been around since I first started working on this storyline. Of course, back then he was a lot different, kinda ninja-like with straight swords and kusuri-gama as his weapons as opposed to his bare fists and a tooled-up Revolver. However, as time passed, I incorporated him into the Elemental Project as an Ifrit Elemental, and from that point I started to heavily base him off another Guilty Gear character, Sol Badguy. The two are very similar, down to the long hair, bandana, basic outfit, and powerful control over fire, plus they have similar personalities, especially when Nash confronts Hyne. His reaction to Hyne is much like Sol's reaction to That Man in Guilty Gear, who plays a very similar role.

I'm afraid I can't go much more in-depth about Nash; he's still not been fully revealed, and there are some surprising revelations about him to be seen, including a few that you wouldn't expect!

_"And Crell sure looked like the Star Wars Emperor, tough thankfully you didn't made him the strongest guy around, blah blah blah cliche cliché."_

Peptuck: Crell is a mad dictator, not a fighter. You never even see him fight in Blood of the Chimera, though that may change in the future. Even so, he's just a Chimera descendant, not an Elemental. For the most part he's the evil genius behind everything. The Doctor Wily of this saga, so to speak; a powerful mastermind who doesn't like to get his hands dirty, using trickery and deceit to get what he wants.

_"Below this guys pure evilness, Malachi and Simmons were two sides of the same coin. Both were badass, but one was a honorable bastard, while the other was a meany bastard. Care to shed some lights over this bishops in the war chess game?"_

Peptuck: Simmons I needed to be an evil bastard to be plain evil. he's the type of guy who everyone hates; he's sadistic, vicious, petty, and a pervert. The guy that makes everyone cheer when he dies. I know I did! I mainly developed him as a disposable villain who would offer an immediate threat to Ellone's safety and intensify the plot. When you know he's evil enough to not even obey his orders and attempt to go after Ellone then and there, you know Squall's story has become that much more of an intense race against time.

Malachi, on the other hand, is a more complex character whose loyalties may be tested later on. He's a loyal soldier, honorable while at the same time vicious and ruthless. He's based off Krauser from Resident Evil 4, who fills a similar (but less treacherous) role in Lord Saddler's organization in that game, as the go-to soldier type who mixes it up with the heroes. At the core, Malachi is a simple archetype: the honorable henchman of the main bad guy who acts as his emissary and front-line commander.

_"Now, for Veronica.. from the first moment, we all knew she was going to be pwned. Severely. "_

Peptuck: Of course! She's a Sorceress. She, too, was a disposable villain. I needed someone to command the White Robes who went after Irvine and Selphie and round out the evil conspiracy. That and we needed someone Rinoa could tackle to prove how powerful she was.

_"And now.. over the strongest lot. I must admit it, Alucard looked a little clichéd to me when I first saw him, but thankfully he became badass enough to annihilate that thought. He appeared like a black-suited guardian angel for the good team."_

Peptuck: indeed. Alucard was another character I based off an equivalent Guilty Gear character: the vampire Slayer. Both are mysterious noblemen who make it their jobs to interfere with the paths of the heroes and help them in their ways. Alucard was definitely a plot-device character as well; he went where I needed him to go to do what I needed him to do. Of course, while he was often an effective Guardian angel (lol pun)he also served the role of expanding the plotline and bringing Hyne and Hades into the story. I'll say it quite clearly: Alucard made this story work.

And as an aside, I'm shocked no one saw the Alucard/Quistis thing earlier! I mean, I _only_ had them interacting heavily with one another throughout the entire story, right from the first chapter...

_"If it was weird to see Hades himself, with that big scythe and attitude, helping out the li'l bitch, Hyne. Darn it, she oughta be the creepiest little girl I've seen, and believe me, I have seen many, I'm a teacher."_

Peptuck: Ah, Hyne and Hades. My villainous pair. Quite the pair they make, in my opinion. Hades, as you can tell, forms the comedic henchman of the duo, while Hyne...well, Hyne is the major villain, the Sephiroth/Kefka/Ultimecia of this story.

Hyne came about as a deliberate attempt to step away from the norms. Hyne is always projected (especially in The Omega) as a powerful, beautiful, benevolent deity. I wanted to go a complete 180 on that; she became a small creepy child with visions of nothing short of destroying the entire universe, and for the simplest of reasons: _because._ There's something fundamentally frightening and simple about that kind of motivation; she doesn't do it because of any gain or plan or desire for revenge or whatever. She does it simply because she exists to unmake things. She is the end. She is the void. She is nothing personified, and her desire to spread that nothing across everything is in her core essence.

In this sense, I think of Hyne as the purest villain of them all. She wants it all to end simply _because._ Is there any cause more basic? More powerful? More frightening?

_"And Serra.. the lost girl finds her path.. and a family in the process, it seems."_

Peptuck: Serra was originally not Squall's daughter in the initial draft. I even entertained the notion of her being Seifer and Rinoa's child at first! But as time progressed, I saw better possibilities with het being Squall and Rinoa's child. Like several other original characters, I used a basic template from Guilty Gear as a design, this time with Dizzy, who fills a very, very similar role, right down to the nature of her defense systems. Serra has Phoenix and Diablos, and Dizzy has Undine and Necro. Both are relatively innocent children who grew up far too quickly (Dizzy being a Gear and growing up in three years, and Serra being an Elemental in the same time) have little experience and are suddenly thrust into a world where it seems that suddenly, they are the core around which everything revolves. Not to mention that both are ridiculously powerful (In GG's Story Mode, AI-controlled Dizzy has a technique called Wings of Light, which at the core is the same move Serra used to annihilate Esthar's army in Noontide. Its an instant-killing move that you almost can't avoid.)

Serra (and Dizzy) represent a primal innocence that I think is something rarely shown; a growing person who is purely innocent, with a wide-eyed wonder as they look at a new world which is both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. I really want to touch on this in the follow-up to Chimera.

_"There was a comment from Crell that got me thinking. In chapter 24 (coincidence), "Legion", he said Garden, along with the best of Galbadia and Dollet's militaries, are going to be annihilated in a single blazing fury of destruction on this glorious day of conquest. Does this means that the original plan of the story featured the entire storyline in one single day?"  
_  
Peptuck: No, actually. Crell was simply referring to kicking Garden's ass and more or less winning the war instantly in a single day with his devious trap.

_"Well, one thing that was funny as hell was to see the little things that got lost in Gunblade due to space and story needs, getting its shining moment in Chimera, like the appearance of Diablos and Phoenix, the return of Elain and Jofey, and the importance of Randolph."  
_  
Peptuck: Since Chimera is a sort-of sequel to Gunblade (using the same world I designed for Gunblade in the first place) I felt I could introduce some elements that were missing and reintroduce characters from Gunblade back into the plot.

_"In chapter "Noontide", when Randolph evacuates the command center, was the original plan to make him die heroically defending or destroying it? It gives that impression.."_

Peptuck: No. Originally he was just going to shoot the enemy down and retreat, but I added in the explosion of the command deck for emphasis.

_"Will Irvine ever junction?"_

Peptuck: Irvine doesn't do junctions. It would take something along the level of what's happened to Squall to make him take that step.

_"Alright, every interview needs to have a few relax silly questions, so brace yourself, Peptocko." _

Peptuck: Whoo.

_"Beast or West?"_

Peptuck: Beast is blue and has a cool VA. the West has neither of those.

_"What are Selphie's measurements?"_

Peptuck: Wouldn't you like to know?

_"How does Lunatic Pandora floats in the air?"_

Peptuck: An engine powered by plot holes.

_"If Angelo barks in the outer space, and no one hears her bark.. has she barked?"_

Peptuck: Well, she barked, so...yeah.

_"What was first, the feather or the Phoenix?"_

Peptuck: Gnomes.

_"What's Zell's weakness?"_

Peptuck: When he swings his shield, there's an opening in his armor that is visible for a second. A single shot from the pistol in that orange fleshy part will bring him down.

"_What would be a good metaphor for our 'silly' segment?"_

Peptuck: The part of the interview where Kaiser was on crack and I was popping acid?

_"Yeah, but it's still enjoyable, huh? Alright, now you WILL have to tell us what's coming next. More action? More romance? More Wackowski moves? In essence, another work is coming?"  
_  
Peptuck: Yep. In fact, I'm actually changing the title of the story to fit the new direction it'll be heading.

I also have another work in the wings, but I'm not going to reveal anything about it yet.

_"What's going to happen with Squall's soul?"_

Peptuck: Wouldn't you like to know?

_"Are Zell and Ellone really pairing up?_"

Peptuck: I don't think Zell invited her into his room for some coffee...unless its Hot Coffee. :P

"_Will Selphie and Irvine finally get things clear?"  
_  
Peptuck: Well, they're already together, but there might be a problem or two in their relationship...

_"What can we expect from Hyne, Hades, Crell, Nash, and all other characters who survived Chimera?"  
_  
Peptuck: **-BAD THINGS**-. In all caps, bolded, and surrounded by pretentious dashes.

_"..finally.. just how big are things coming next?"_

Peptuck: Think Advent Children. Minus the silver hair and OMG CLOUD-ANGST.

_"We'll be waiting."_

Peptuck: And that's half the reason I write this stuff!

And there you have it.

Until next story….


	31. Legacy Prologue: Sunrise

_**Prologue: Sunrise**_

She sat quietly in her chair, looking over the data. The rich scent of fresh coffee ran across her nose, and she quietly took a sip from the mug in her hands. Her office was still dark, but the first rays of sunlight were starting to poke over the mountains and hills to the east. Soon enough, it would be a new day, for everyone, including Quistis Trepe.

Another day in a world that was more and more needing her leadership, and the leadership of her protégées. A world that daily awoke to a new darkness, a new evil. The legacy of Crell Varines had not even begun to pass, even a year after his defeat and exile in these very waters.

Too much had been lost in that battle. Over ten thousand soldiers of Dollet, Galbadia, and Garden had been killed, along with upwards of a hundred thousand Estharians, all told. Balamb Garden had been sunk, and worse casualties had been suffered. And a year later, they were still fighting Crell's war, though he had changed the tables yet again.

She slowly set the mug down, and looked over the computer screen. The lights from the monitor played off her eyes as she examined the data, almost sadly and forlornly.

**SeeD Personnel File T-T-8133**

**Name: Tilmitt, Selphie Mariana Avril**

**Rank: Staff Sergeant (17)**

**Age: 21**

**Height: 5' ½"**

**Weight: 102 lbs (presumed)**

**Date of Birth: July 16, 3983**

**Eye Color: Green**

**Hair Color: Brown**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Trabia/Balambese**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: Demolitions/Magical Support/Vehicular Support/Artillery Support**

**Current Status: Missing in Action**

It had been seven months since she had vanished. A routine investigation by her unit regarding a terrorist cell hidden in Lollapalooza Canyon had ended up with the rest of the unit reporting back in, but with Selphie gone. A week-long search of the area by Galbadian and Timber authorities, with Seed support, had not turned up any clues. No signs of conflict, no indications of a struggle, nothing. Selphie had simply . . . Vanished.

For anyone else, the disappearance would have had sinister connotations, and the likelihood would have been that she'd be lost at the hands of the enemies they were hunting. But this was Selphie; one of the few remaining Elementals. She wouldn't have gone down without a fight, and when it got down to it, she wasn't a very subtle person, especially with her powers over cold magic. There was no possibility that she would have been taken by force without _some_ sign of it laying around.

And thinking of Selphie brought up the next file.

**SeeD Personnel File K-G-3341**

**Name: Kinneas, Irvine Victor**

**Rank: Staff Sergeant (18)**

**Age: 21**

**Height: 6'0"**

**Weight: 174 lbs**

**Date of Birth: November 24, 3983**

**Eye Color: Brown**

**Hair Color: Brown**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Galbadia/Galbadian**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: Sharpshooter/Firearms Support/Undercover Operations**

**Current Status: Active, Deployed NOC attached to CITU Special Task Force**

While everyone within their circle of friends had been hit hard and were intensely worried about Selphie's disappearance, no one had taken it worse than Irvine. For the first month since she had disappeared Irvine had been frantic, obsessive, and for good reason. No one had cared as much for Selphie as he had, and the bond they had forged in Iceblood's hellish corridors had brought the two together as tightly as-

Quistis stopped, closing her eyes, and willed that thought away. Losing Selphie was bad enough, but Squall . . . .

Quistis had been forced to relieve Irvine from duty within a month of Selphie's disappearance, citing his emotional state and inability to focus on critical work. She remembered how well he had responded to that, and three days in the brig had managed to sober him up after the damage he did to her office.

Depressed, damaged, mentally unstable . . . Irvine had been effectively out of action for another four months before he managed to come back to Garden. He had come to her office, demanding that she give him something to do, a mission, a job, an assignment, anything.

She had known what Irvine wanted. He was hunting for solace in his work, to focus on a mission that would tear his mind from Selphie, from that horrible feeling of grief and failure. The more dangerous and risky the mission, he had told her, the better. Thus she had given him one of the most dangerous assignments she could find: a NOC infiltration job against one of Crell Varines' suspected cells in Galbadia City. It was one of those jobs Irvine did best.

Quistis looked over the next file, a faint smile coming to her lips after the darker thoughts of Irvine and Selphie.

**SeeD Personnel Report D-B-1298**

**Name: Dincht, Zell Adam**

**Rank: Sergeant (15)**

**Age: 21**

**Height: 5'5"**

**Weight: 221 lbs.**

**Date of Birth: March 17, 3983**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Balambese**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: CQC (Martial Arts)/Vehicular Support/Mechanized Repair**

**Current status: Active, assigned to CITU Special Task Force**

While the war had sobered Zell up, and watching a lot of tragedy unfold around him had hit him bad, the brawler was still eager and exuberant. When Quistis had proposed and formed the Counter Insurgent-Terrorism Unit for Garden, Zell had been one of the first t very aggressively volunteer for the job. Not even working under Seifer's direct command rankled him much. Though if anything did temper the wild SeeD, it was other responsibilities, like the fact that he had a daughter on the way.

It still amazed Quistis that, of all people, Zell and Ellone had gotten together. They had been friends in Edea's orphanage, and Zell had been all for helping Ellone during the Sorceress War, but something had "clicked" between them over the last year. They had formed a bond after Zell had pulled Ellone from the hands of Crell's minions, and it had only grown stronger over the months following . . . .

And now Ellone was four months pregnant.

The next file rose up into view, and Quistis couldn't help but glance over it with a bit of guilty vanity.

**SeeD Personnel File T-B-1011**

**Name: Trepe, Quistis Miranda**

**Rank: Galbadia Garden Commander (A)**

**Age: 22**

**Height: 5'6"**

**Weight: 131 lbs.**

**Date of Birth: October 4, 3982**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Dollet**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: Magical Combat/Magical Support/Blue Magic/SeeD Instruction**

**Current Status: Active**

She shook her head as she looked over the file, still surprised at her new position. But with Balamb Garden destroyed, and former Galbadia Garden Commander Kisk killed in action during a strike in Timber early into Crell's terrorist campaign, someone needed to assume command. She was the natural choice, they al knew, and had been second in line to become Commander of Balamb Garden when Squall was still alive.

Thinking of Squall was badly timed, she knew, when the next file came up.

**SeeD Personnel File: H-N-4310**

**Name: Heartilly, Rinoa**

**Rank: Sergeant Major (22)**

**Age: 21**

**Height: 5' 3 ½"**

**Weight: 99 lbs.**

**Date of Birth: March 3, 3983**

**Eye Color: Brown**

**Hair Color: Black**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Galbadia/Galbadian**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: CQC (Gunblade/Broadsword style)/Firearms Support/Magic/Squad Leadership**

**Current status: Active, assigned to CITU Special Task Force**

Rinoa had logged more time in combat than most experienced SeeDs. Cid had always made it clear that if she wanted to join Garden full-time as a SeeD, then she was welcome to and would get a position equal to her experience and abilities.

But after the battle outside Balamb, Rinoa had spent nearly an entire month in isolation. She'd suffered an almost complete breakdown, Squall's death striking her more deeply than anyone expected, even those closest to her. There had been rumors that Rinoa might commit suicide, but they had been grossly exaggerated. All of her surviving friends had tried to pull her out of her depression, and ultimately, Rinoa had started to come back around, though still full of sadness and grief. But then, when Selphie disappeared, it seemed to have galvanized Rinoa into action. Much like Irvine would later, she had requested to be formally inducted into SeeD and receive an assignment.

It came as no surprise when she took Squall's remnant, the gunblade Revolver, as her primary weapon. He had shown her some combat techniques with the gunblade over the years, and her showing with the weapon qualified her for gunblade specialty. Her experience made her an excellent SeeD, and Quistis had, after some consideration, assigned Rinoa to Seifer's CITU. Even without her Sorceress powers, Rinoa was a dangerous opponent, and she had buried her grief under her desire to get back at those who had ultimately forced Squall to take Griever into his body and sacrifice himself.

The next file naturally followed Rinoa's.

**SeeD Personnel File A-B-1045**

**Name: Almasy, Seifer**

**Rank: Task Force Commander, CITU Special Task Force (A)**

**Age: 22**

**Height: 6' 2"**

**Weight: 178 lbs.**

**Date of Birth: December 22, 3982**

**Eye Color: Gray**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Dollet/Dollet**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: CQC (Gunblade/Saber style)/Covert Operations/Infiltration**

**Current Status: Active, Commander of CITU Special Task Force**

Xu had told Seifer he would never be a SeeD Captain, and she had been right. Technically, Seifer had never been a Captain, but had jumped from cadet to traitor to criminal to general and then to the head of the Counter Insurgent/Terrorism Unit. Citing his many . . . "unique" . . . experiences, Cid had asked Seifer to take command of a unit devoted specifically to tracking, preventing, and destroying Crell Varines' insurgent and terrorist forces.

Seifer had put in some odd requests since he'd become the Commander of the CITU, including approving some personnel transfers that certain people had requested. He currently had a small army of over a hundred SeeD technicians, analysts, and investigators under his command, as well as an equal number of field agents and assault troops. Not to mention over a thousand additional agents and soldiers in Galbadia, Dollet, and Esthar's intelligence agencies. His unit was capable, powerful, and smart, and had the authority it needed to commandeer and override local authorities and agencies.

For all intents and purposes, Seifer and his CITU were the unquestioned head of the hunt for Crell and his insurgents.

The responsibility of commanding such a daunting mission didn't stop Seifer from other tasks. He had made it his personal mission to protect Squall and Rinoa's own daughter from harm, and he did that zealously, and had basically forced Quistis to agree to have a squad of no fewer than a dozen SeeDs protecting her at all times when he was away.

Finally, Quistis came to the end of the list, and sighed deeply. Just seeing this name was enough to bring back recordings of the conversation between him and Rinoa, before he had sunk beneath the waves.

**Name: Leonhart, Squall**

**Rank: Balamb Garden Commander (A)**

**Age: 20**

**Height: 5' 8"**

**Weight: 169 lbs.**

**Date of Birth: August 23, 3983**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Hair Color: Brown**

**Nationality/Ethnicity: Balamb/Galbadian**

**SeeD Occupational Specialty: CQC (Gunblade/Broadsword style)/Covert Operations/Garden Leadership**

**Current Status: Killed in Action**

Those last three words chilled Quistis every time she read them. Killed in action. Squall Leonhart.

Quistis had never thought she'd read those words in his profile.

After a few moments, she closed the files, and sat back, closing her eyes.

Something fell onto her desk with the light _click_ of plastic on wood. She looked down, and saw what looked like an identification card sliding across her desk toward her. She looked up in the direction it had clearly come from, and saw a man standing in the middle of her room, wearing a black dress suit, a brimmed hat, and with smoke emanating from a pipe-

Quistis had her whip drawn from her side in a flash and was standing up, chain in hand and ready to strike at the man - _no, definitely not human_ - who stood across from her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, to which the figure replied with a quiet, amused chuckle.

"Dear Quistis replied Alucard, guardian of Existence. "Its been over a year, and you greet me so rudely . . . ."

"When we have intelligence indicating you're siding with murderers and terrorists, we tend to react very hostile," she snarled, edging around the desk. "What are you doing here?"

Alucard sighed quietly, and then nodded toward the desk.

"Meddling, dear Quistis," he replied tiredly. "All I ever do." He managed a slight smile.

"Are you here for Serra?" Quistis demanded. As she came around the desk, her finger twitched slightly, and she squeezed on a slender ring on her finger.

"You do not need to call for security," Alucard commented, catching that tiniest of motions. "I am not here for the girl."

"Why don't I believe you?" Quistis asked, advancing another step, putting him firmly within striking range for her rante.

"I am many things, Quistis, but a liar, I am not," he replied. "Serra's continued life does threaten the existence of this material world, but precisely why I do not understand yet. I have been trying to find an alternate method of stopping Hyne, but until then, she remains the only means by which I can directly counter her." He sighed. "I am very sorry I have to resort to killing her, but it's the only option I have available."

"You aren't going anywhere near her," Quistis said firmly, and Alucard shrugged.

"I'm not going to kill her, not yet," he explained. "I am not hyne or Hades. I do not kill when unnecessary."

"You seemed awfully intent of murdering her when we last met."

"I deemed her death necessary then."

They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, both reading the others' expression. Neither could delve too deeply into each other's thoughts however, and finally, Quistis broke eye contact, glancing down at the card on her desk, her posture relaxing in resigned defeat. He was right; Alucard was no liar, and if he said he wasn't going to harm Serra now, then he wasn't.

"Why aren't you going after her, then?" Quistis asked, picking up the card.

"I feel her death is unnecessary at this juncture," he replied evenly. "But it may yet be required in the near future. Hyne is moving."

"She's been moving," Quistis replied.

"Positioning herself, yes," Alucard replied. "But I can sense she's preparing for the final strike. She is preparing for checkmate."

"What makes you say that?" Quistis asked.

"Magic has been failing," he remarked. "Beyond junctioned magic and the strength of an Elemental's energy, normal magic is slowly being sapped away. Even SeeD has been effected by that, hasn't it?"

Quistis quietly nodded, looking over the card. It was a fairly standard Galbadian ID Card for some man named "Allen Steele" in Deling City. It looked fake at first glance, and after a moment's analysis, Quistis confirmed it was indeed a fake ID.

"We've been compensating," she replied. "But in those first weeks we were fighting Adel insurgents we had a hard time when our magic wasn't working. We had no normal ranged options for many of our troops . . . Is it connected with Hyne?"

"I do not know, but I have my suspicions."

"Why are you helping Crell?"

"Who said I was helping him?"

Quistis paused at that, and considered his words.

"Remember, Quistis," Alucard stated. "I am always on the side of existence. I may be angry and may make rash decisions, but I am acting for the greater good." he nodded at the card. "That man is a member of Crell's insurgency, operating a nightclub with . . . disreputable practices going on underneath the table, so to speak. Funding his insurgent cells. He is moderately important within the rank structure, and he may have information you would need." With that, Alucard tipped his hat, and stepped backward, disappearing into a fold in the fabric of reality.

Quistis sighed and moved back around her desk, before sitting down and laying her head back. She closed her eyes again.

She was annoyed, but not surprised, when her intercom beeped. She sat forward and slapped the button on her desk in annoyance.

"What?" she asked.

"Ma'am, that man we recovered from the insurgent base near Timber is ready to talk." Quistis perked up at that bit of news. They had almost never caught one of Crell's men alive in the last year; a live, talkative captive to interrogate would help immeasurably in the battle against the terrorists.

"I'll be down in a moment," she said, standing up.

* * *

Crell Varines sat down in a chair, across from the only one of his men to have survived the debacle at their Timber cell. One of his largest cells had been wiped out, over eighty men killed, with only two survivors, one in Garden custody, and the other managing to limp away to a safehouse before being transported back for debriefing.

The former-dictator, now the head of over two thousand and more insurgents scattered across the globe, watched his man as the soldier trembled, seated behind the desk, cold sweat cutting across his brow. He was clutching a glass in his hand, having already downed the whiskey, yet still not calming down despite the alcohol.

"Victor," Crell whispered quietly, knowing he had to be patient. The soldier was shaken, badly so, as if he had seen a ghost . . . Or watched that ghost rip apart every other soldier in his unit. "Victor, what happened?"

"He came for us," muttered the man. He looked up at his commander, eyes full of fear as he spoke. "He came into the base and killed everyone!"

"Who?" Crell asked insistently.

"He . . . He . . . . He . . . ." the soldier managed a swallow, and shook his head, trembling more and more. He lowered his head, and started sobbing in terror and pain at the memory.

"Victor," Crell asked quietly. "Tell me . . . ."

* * *

" . . . what happened?" Quistis asked as she stared at the prisoner across from her. The terrified soldier, traumatized by what had happened to him - not to mention the fact that his left arm was missing from the bicep down - shook his head.

"Louis, you need to tell us what happened," she asked quietly, insistently. "Everyone else at your base died. What killed them?"

"It . . . The man . . . He came in like a shadow. The guys out front, watching the woods, they went down first. I heard one of them scream and die. Everyone went for their weapons,a nd they fanned out, clearing the caverns we were using. But . . . ."

"But what?" Quistis asked.

"The man . . He . . . ."

* * *

" . . . massacred them," Victor responded. "He moved through the caves, killing everyone. People just . . . . They vanished. One second, they were reporting in, then they just stopped speaking. There weren't any screams. He just . . . He burst from the shadows and tore them apart in an eyeblink!" Victor looked up at Crell, lips trembling, and he shook his head. "He killed half the cell before we even fired a shot."

"Did you regroup?" Crell asked, and Victor nodded.

"We retreated back to the barracks, and started barricading the entrances. But that didn't slow him down. He was a step ahead of us . . . Rhames . . . ."

* * *

"Rhames was the last guy left aside from me and Victor," Louis told her quietly, having calmed down slightly after a SeeD medic had injected him with a relaxant. "He smashed through the door right in front of us, and sliced him in half. I didn't see any motion. He just came in, and Rhames fell apart."

"You saw him?" Quistis asked, and Louis nodded.

"Yes. I saw . . . Black, shadow," he whsipered. "he came across the room. I raised my rifle, but he cut it in hald. Victor ran and knocked out the lights, trying to cover us to escape, but that didn't do anything. He . . . ."

* * *

"I heard him slice Louis' arm off, and Louis screamed and screamed," Victor said, the calming alcohol finally taking effect. He didn't seem any less terrified, however, as he spoke.

"I heard him grab Louis by his collar, and . . . ."

"And what?" Crell asked.

"I _saw them."_

* * *

"Saw what?" Quistis inquired, leaning in closer. "What did you see?"

"_His eyes."_

* * *

"Blood red," Victor whispered, fear apparent in his voice. "Glowing red. Like . . . Like gates into hell. He was staring at Louis, those eyes boring into him. And then . . . He spoke."

* * *

"What did he say?" Louis seemed to almost start crying again, and Quistis reached forward, touching the battered man's shoulder. He froze up, but then calmed down, and managed to look into her face with those horrified eyes.

"He said we were going to live, so everyone would know what was happening. So everyone would know what he was."

* * *

"Did he tell you his name?" Crell asked, and Victor nodded.

"Yes. He . . . He did."

"What was it?"

Victor stared at Crell with his terrified eyes, and spoke two words.

* * *

Louis stared at Quistis with his terrified eyes, and spoke two words.

* * *

"_The Chimera."_


	32. I: On The Hunt

_**Chapter 1: On the Hunt**_

"_Do you know why we have to wear these?" he asked. Slowly, he turned to his guest, watching the man as he slowly finished tightening the straps. Silver light shone down through the windows, illuminating the small room, the glow reflecting off the metal band running across his forehead._

"_Because of what you made," responded his guest. "What _we_ created."_

"_We?" he responded, and chuckled. He reached up, fiddling with the device that ran across his own forehead, the black cloth disguising the machinery built into the bandana. "Technically, that's true, I suppose."_

"_The only way to retain sanity," mused his guest, standing up. He watched as the man picked up his weapon, slowly strapping it across his chest._

"_What are you going to do now?" he asked, and his guest shrugged._

"_What else?" The guest looked across the room as he finished donning the blade and its scabbard. "Fixing all these mistakes." _

* * *

It was getting late, and the sun was dropping over the eastern horizon, passing beneath the mountains far to the east of Galbadia City, the renamed capital of Galbadia. The last traces of orange fire were cutting across the sky and through the clouds as Seifer's SUV rolled down the street.

" _. . . and in other news across the globe, two gunmen opened fire on a Timber police vehicle earlier today, killing one officer and wounding a second. Local police were unable to find the attackers or identify them. New Way claimed responsibility, saying that the attack was approved by Crell Varines himself. A second attack in Dollet today involved three bombs placed in the Marksdale Hotel, killing seventeen civilians and wounding nearly eighty more-"_

Seifer hit a button, changing the radio station. The last thing he needed was hearing news about things he'd already had headaches over earlier that day. He looked up as he moved down the road, noting he cars moving with his own vehicle. There weren't a huge number on the streets at the moment; Deling City only really came alive at night; and most people waited until after sunset to get out and about. Seifer was glad that there weren't many vehicles moving around . . . it decreased the number of potential car-bombs rolling around on the street. He'd learned to be cautious over the last year; the car bomb attempt on his life in Dollet four months ago had taught him to be wary.

No vehicles seemed to be suspicious as he drove down the main street of Galbadia City, but that didn't ease Seifer's concerns; Crell's New Way terrorists had a tendency to jump out of nowhere.

Seifer's cell phone rang, and he sighed and picked it up. He flipped it open as he turned onto a side street.

"Almasy."

"_Commander, command post is set up."_ The voice was from one of his team leaders. Seifer nodded as the man spoke.

"You have the target scouted out yet?"

"_We've got IR scanners surrounding the building, and we picked up construction maps and plans from the City Planning Office. We're keeping it low profile and quiet, at least until business starts picking up."_

"Is our boy in there yet?" Seifer asked as he rolled down another side street, turning onto another major road.

"_NOC has him confirmed; he's inside the building, closing down a few business deals. Sounds like he's planning a meeting with someone else in Crell's organization tonight, a courier to run some of their profits to another cell. We've got some good news and some bad news, however."_

"The good?" Seifer asked.

"_Good news is that we were able to arrange that water main leak you wanted. Effectively shut down business for the club for the next couple of nights, so we'll have a lot less civilian presence inside the building than we would normally."_

"That'll keep civilian casualties as low as we can get them," Seifer added. "Makes the assault that much more clean. What about the bad news?"

"_Boatload of goons has been filtering in over the last three hours. Looks like well over twenty guys, professional soldiers, all in suits and well armed. Them plus Steele's own bodyguards mean we've got at least thirty hostiles on the inside, and they're looking for trouble."_

"Nothing we can't handle," Seifer replied. He scanned the street as he drove down it. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could see. "Is everyone assembled?"

"_Three Ranger elements from Galbadia are here, plus our SeeDs. We're good to go as soon as you get here."_

"We still need to get more intel on our target, see exactly how many goons he has protecting him. Intel says he's pretty important in the command structure, so - holy shit!" Seifer suddenly stopped as a car shot out of an alley directly in front of him. The vehicle spun and started driving down the street directly in front of Seifer, who swerved to the side. His instincts suddenly erupted, firing off wildly, and the SeeD half-expected a dozen weapons to be pointing out of the vehicle and firing at him.

However, Seifer's sudden alarm was unnecessary; the vehicle seemed benign, just had a bad driver. It moved down the street at a steady pace, and Seifer shook his head, moving past it. No, the vehicle was no threat; he was just being jumpy with all the terrorist threats and attacks lately. The SeeD accelerated past the idiotic driver, and spared a glance at the person behind the wheel, expecting some blind old lady peeking over the steering wheel.

Seifer liked his SUV. It was big, powerful, fast, and carried a lot of equipment and firepower in the back. It also afforded him an excellent view of the area around him, and the seat was higher up than most normal cars. As he drove past the vehicle, and glanced down at the driver, he could see down into the vehicle, and could tell the horrible driver was no old lady, but rather a middle-aged man, steering with on hand, the other holding-

Seifer suddenly, and completely instinctively, swerved, slamming his SUV sideways into the car, driving it off the road and onto the sidewalk.

_-the other hand holding the detonator to what looked like enough C7 explosive to level a mid-sized building._

The smaller car was driven sideways, slamming into a sapling planted along the side of the road. The car slammed into the plant, bumper crumpling from the force behind the sudden impact. Seifer turned his SUV hard, bringing the vehicle to a stop, and leapt out, grabbing his gunblade. He ran across the intervening distance between himself and the car, and saw the shocked driver was buried facefirst in an airbag, and was pushing himself back and up. Wasting no time, Seifer rushed in, slamming his left hand through the windshield and shattering it with all his junction-enhanced power.

The terrorist inside recoiled from the flying chunks of glass, and fell away, his hands frantically reaching down for the detonator. His hands wrapped around it as Hyperion lanced into the shattered window, stabbing into the man's throat. The terrorist's eyes bulged as he stared in shock at the SeeD's weapon, but somehow retained the presence of mind to try and close his thumb down on the button of the detonator.

Seifer pulled the trigger on Hyperion, and the terrorist's movements stopped completely, the detonator falling out of his hands and into the seat. The dead terrorist's head followed a second later.

Seifer stared at the bloody mess that made up the interior of the car, and pulled back, wiping his face off with his sleeve.

"_Fuck,"_ he muttered, just barely beginning to relax now that the threat had been removed. That had been too close.

People were running toward the site of the disturbance, and Seifer took a step back, holding up a hand, yelling for everyone to keep away. He set Hyperion down and pulled out his cell phone again, dialing up the local police and calling in the incident. Within a few minutes a police vehicle was on the scene, and Seifer let the cops handle the details, sticking around just long enough to show them his identification and explain he was expected elsewhere. He received a shocked thanks from one of the officers at his quick prevention of another lethal attack, and then climbed back into his SUV, now marred with scratches along its side from where the two cars had met.

"_Sir?"_ asked the SeeD he'd been speaking with after Seifer called the man back, as he started down the road again. _"What happened?"_

"Scored one for the good guys," Seifer commented calmly as he continued down the street, blood still marking his face and sleeve. "Where were we?"

* * *

The idling engine sent slight vibrations through the motorcycle as it stood on one of the eastern bluffs overlooking Galbadia City. The sunlight continued to die, becoming only a streak of orange fire poking over the eastern mountains. Night would fall on the distant city soon enough, and then . . . .

The cell phone in his pocket thrummed slightly, and he looked down at his coat, before reaching in and pulling the device out. He flipped it open and put it to his ear, pressing a button.

"_SeeD operation going down at the Quicksilver nightclub tonight. Minimal civilian involvement. Target is named Steele, mid-level flunkie in New Way. He has the intel you need."_

There was a click, and the message ended.

He returned the cell phone to his coat pocket silently, and then pulled his hat down low, securing it around his head and ensuring it wouldn't fly away. Leaning down low over the motorcycle, he gunned the engine, causing the wheels to spin, throwing up dirt into the air behind his bike. The black-plated motorcycle erupted forward, shooting down the side of the bluff and toward the distant city, its rider's coat flapping in the wind like some rip-off of a dramatic CG fantasymovie

It was time to hunt.

* * *

Seifer's SUV pulled into a parking garage for a nearby mall next to the nightclub, and drove right into the middle of a small field base, consisting of a ring of additional vans and SUVs. Galbadian soldiers and SeeDs, all clad in blue-black nighttime assault gear and armor, were prepping weapons and equipment while several more went over the basic battle plan.

"I say we go in with frags, door breachers, and flashbangs," remarked one of the SeeDs, a black watchcap over the top of his blonde hair, black lightning tattoo shooting across his face. Zell Dincht tapped three spots on a schematic of the nightclub, the main entryways. "Bust down the doors and charge in, guns blazing. Shock and awe. I figure that if we send everyone in through these entrances, we can have the entire occupied area of the club swept and cleared within a minute to a minute and a half."

"Brute force won't work, Zell," commented the woman standing across from him, shaking her head. Rinoa's slender figure was outfitted with the same gear as the rest of the soldiers, and she seemed surprisingly comfortable wearing the blue-black clothing and armor of an assault soldier. "We have to take this one delicately. We have to take Steele alive, and we have a NOC inside as well. Going in with all guns blazing can end up killing either of them. Not to mention that they've probably got contingencies and escape routes ready if we go in like that."

She ran a finger along the schematics, and paused, tapping one spot.

"There's an accessway along this alley that connects to the basement of the club. The basement opens up directly into the kitchen at the back. If we use this route, we can get a team inside the middle of the building before anyone knows we're there."

A car door slammed nearby, and both of the SeeDs looked up, to see Seifer walking toward them, clad in his typical white coat, though his left sleeve and face were smeared by crimson.

"Yo, you alright?" Zell asked as Seifer walked into the circle of troops gathered around the maps and schematics. The CITU commander shrugged.

"Some asshole was driving a car bomb," he replied. "I had to take care of him." Rinoa and Zell blinked at the nonchalant way Seifer had spoken that, but they dismissed it. Crell's terrorists kept crawling out of the woodwork, and the number of attacks were intensifying over the last few months. Zell had actually seemed happy at the notion that the enemy was getting more aggressive, pointing out that the more the enemy exposed themselves, the more of them that CITU would be whacking down.

"So, what have we got?" Seifer asked, looking over the papers. "Anyone have a plan for this?"

"Zell wants to kick in the doors and kick everyone's asses," Rinoa explained, and the brawler nodded.

"Zell always wants to kick in the door and kick everyone's asses," Seifer countered. "That's why he's not in charge. You have a plan, Rinoa?" She nodded, and quickly outlined her assault operation, while Zell pouted.

"Kick in the door is a perfectly sound battleplan," he muttered.

"Zell, be quiet. The first squad inserts through the sewer access behind the building," she explained. "They'll be set up right inside the kitchen. Second squad will hit through the fire escapes in the back of the building. Move in and clear the entire structure."

"Back entrance will be left uncovered," Zell remarked, and Rinoa nodded.

"GCPD is ready to form a solid perimeter around the club once we break in. Give them the signal and they'll have the whole area locked down." She put both hands on the schematics, where the teams would be breaking in, and moved them inward. "As we break in, Steele will break out through the back door and make a run for it."

"And we ambush him as he escapes," Seifer added. "He slips out, thinks he's clear, andGCPD will catch him in the perimeter." Seifer mulled over the plan. "I like it."

"We'll need to make it look like the assault teams are our full assault force," Rinoa added. "If he thinks we'll jump him as he escapes, he may just kill himself or fight to the death. We can't have a large team hitting him from behind."

"I know just who to call for that job," Seifer replied. "What about our NOC?"

"He should be able to stay with Steele. If he's compromised, though, we know he can fight his way out or assist in bringing Steele down."

"Good," Seifer said with a nod. "Okay, this plan looks like it will work. Get the data and assault plans to all our people and call GCPD, let them know. Once everyone's ready we go in."

* * *

Allen Steele leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He let out a vexed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Three days," he muttered. "Three whole days."

"Yes, sir," answered one of his lieutenants, and the man muttered something under his breath. Steele sat forward, running a hand through his blonde hair, andcursed under his breath.

"This will set things back for a bit," he stated. "With the club's operations down, we can't use it for much of a front. I'm sure GCPD would start noticing if our people went in and out regularly from a closed nightclub, and half our operations use regular club activities to distribute our goods." Drugs, prostitution, illegal arms, fencing stolen merchandise . . . It all went on in the Quicksilver, and had been that way for years, as long as Crell's element in the Adelist movement had been operating. Only so much money could be shaved from Estharian Intelligence's budget before people would have started noticing, and once Crell had started the ShadowNet operation, illegal income had become the main staple of his insurgent army's supply of cash. In the last year Steele had gone from a middling financial supplier to one of Crell's top ten income providers.

And with club operations used as the main front to facilitate deals, the shutdown of operations was going to cut into their margins significantly. The boss wouldn't be very happy, but they couldn't help it.

Steele looked across his office, then at Miccar, the lieutenant sitting across from him, then at Stan and Ed, the two trusted bodyguards standing at the interior door to his office. Outside were Stewart and Roger, the other two bodyguards, watching the door from the other side. They were relatively new, and not as closely trusted as Stan and Ed. Crell had been shifting resources around, and the ShadowNet, while secure, was not one hundred percent reliable, so communications through it were spotty at best. One couldn't be too careful, even with men who'd been around for months.

"Well, tell the crew to get all our incriminating stuff hidden away so we can get those repair people inside to fix everything. I need this place up and running before we can get back to our operations. Miccar, get with our contacts, tell them we'll have to relocate or postpone the deals until next week." Steele paused, and scratched his chin, and opened up his laptop. He tapped a few keys, and frowned as he tried to connect to the ShadowNet to see if there were any updates. All he got for a moment was static coming over the lines. "And get a couple of guys out back on the DSL connections. See if the water main caused any problems with our network. Its been spotty for the last few hours."

* * *

A couple of quick revisions had been made to the plans as they had surrounded the nightclub. The side entrance and second floor fire escape were to be stormed directly by Galbadian Ranger and SeeDelements, one of which was led by Seifer. Rinoa was to go with Zell and the remaining SeeD and Galbadian troops to storm the kitchen and attack the center of the nightclub. A spotter was put along the rear alley of the club to watch for any escaping enemy troops and to funnel Steele into the GCPD perimeter if he tried escaping out the back.

Rinoa's team, a dozen SeeDs and Galbadian Rangers, along with Zell, had finished preparing all their gear and were moving up the side alley that the sewer connected to. In the darkened night, the only visible lights were those poking around the corners of the club from the street outside, plus a few small lamps along the alley. Nothing was moving as the assault force moved up the alley, Rinoa leading, clutching a UMP sub-machinegun, the standard issue SeeD weapon for close-quarters assault, and also the firearm Rinoa had specialized in.

"_First Squad?"_ came Seifer's voice, and Rinoa paused, pressing a finger to her throat, where a small microphone was taped.

"In position, about to enter the sewers," she whispered. Rinoa put a hand on her gunblade's handle, and then grpped her UMP more tightly as they drew closer to the grating set against the side of the building. Rinoa raised a fist, twirling it in a circle, then raised an index finger and did the same with it. The SeeDs and Rangers formed up around the grating, into a semicircle, covering all approaches, while Zell slipped in and started working over the grating itself. Without any trouble at all, the SeeD brawler lifted the grating up and moved it aside, setting down the hundred pounds of solid metal without a sound. Immediately, the SeeDs and Galbadians filed in, dropping down silently and moving through the sewer access into the basement. Once the regular troops had gone in, Zell followed, and Rinoa moved to enter the passage, when she heard voices.

She looked out into the alley, to see a man in a business suit walk around a corner, and another man in engineer's coveralls beside him carrying a toolbox. They moved down the alley, but gave no indication that they had seen Rinoa where she crouched. Both men were armed, the technician wearing a pistol and the suited man carrying a sub-machinegun.

"Seifer, contact. Two hostiles in the side alley." She paused as they walked up to what looked like a phone line connection. The technician took out a scanner and plugged it in, and started hitting keys. Rinoa edged closer, sticking to the shadows, and tried to listen to what they were saying.

"Any interference?" the suited man asked the technician as he went about his work. The tech shook his head as he looked over the scanner.

"I need to run through the frequencies, but it doesn't look like the leak damaged any of the connections," replied the tech. "But it may take a few minutes to be sure. We jump between frequencies every few seconds, and with all the space between standard wi-fi frequencies, that's a lot of noise I have to scan."

"Meaning . . . .?"

"It'll be a bit. You can't expect to use something sophisticated like the ShadowNet and be finished checking everything in a few seconds, right?"

The two men went silent as the technician continued using his scanner. Rinoa watched them intently, recording and remembering their exact locations and the tools the technician was using. She had just stumbled onto something important . . . .

"_Rinoa, update."_

She tapped her throat mike, clicking it and letting Seifer know she had heard his order but couldn't respond for fear of giving herself away.

"_Zell, update,"_ Seifer added, switching to the next-closest person in the squad. Rinoa reached into a pocket as Zell spoke next, pulling out a small wireless PDA to send a text message to Seifer.

"_One sentry in the basement down. We're in position near the entrance to the kitchen. Good to go."_

"_Second Squad?"_

"_In position on the fire escape. Ready to breach the second floor."_

"_Back alley?"_

"_Back door covered."_

Rinoa finished typing in her message and sent it to Seifer: **CONTACT, TWO HOSTILES IN SIDE ALLEY. TECHNICIAN AND GUARD, CHECKING COMMUNICATIONS. PERMISSION TO TAKE DOWN ALIVE.**

She waited silently as the radio went silent for several seconds, and then her ear-speaker clicked twice. She glanced down at the PDA.

**INTEL VALUE HIGH?**

She typed in a quick response.

**YES. MENTION OF "SHADOWNET". **

A second later, Seifer's response appeared.

**GO.**

"First Squad," Rinoa whispered into her mike as the two hostiles started heading back up the alley. "Follow Zell's lead." She hurried up the alleyway, silent and blending in with the shadows, slinging her UMP and drawing the Revolver.

Neither man had any time to react; she didn't give them any time to. Rinoa's blade slashed against the back of one of the technician's knees, hamstringing him in a single deft move. Rinoa whirled as the tech gasped out in shock, and his guard turned in time to see the Revolver stab into his chest. Rinoa pulled the trigger, and the man was blasted in half, blood splattering over the blade and onto his comrade. The terrified, off-guard tech twisted toward Rinoa, drawing his pistol, but she quickly caught his wrist in her left hand and turned his arm out to the side, pointing the weapon away from her. In the same deft motion, he brought her gunblade across, bringing the bloody and warm edge of the sword to the man's neck.

"Drop it," she ordered harshly. The technician hesitated, before letting his pistol clatter to the pavement.

"Now," she added. "Let's talk."

* * *

"All personnel in position. Stand by," Seifer whispered under his breath as Garret, the demolitions specialist in his squad, finished setting a breaching charge in the door. The SeeD stepped back, holding up the detonator, as ten SeeDs and Galbadians readied their weapons behind him. Seifer was about to issue the execute order, when an idea hit him. He held up a hand and then stepped forward, rapping the door with a quick knock. A couple of seconds later, a voice could be heard on the other side.

"Yeah?"

"_Gogogo!"_ Seifer shouted, and the door shattered inward with a deafening explosion, wood and metal shards flying throughout the interior of the room beyond. Seifer leapt through the confusion, over the shredded mess of the goon who had been drawn to the door. Hyperion and saber were in Seifer's hands as he set foot inside the corridor beyond, directly in front of a stunned, confused guard. Seifer didn't waste any time with any fancy techniques. He stabbed Hyperion into the man's stomach and fired, blasting his organs to liquid and hurling him off the slender gunblade as he rushed past, down the corridor. Several doorways lined the hall, and one flew open, two more suited guards stepping out, sub-machineguns in hand.

The saber arced up, slicing into one guard's weapon hand while the slender Hyperion slashed into his throat. The guard and his weapon hit the floor as Seifer whirled, stabbing both blades into the stomach of the second soldier, tearing the two weapons out wide to either side. The guard doubled over, dropping his weapon and clutching at his torn stomach, and Seifer rushed past him, moving deeper into the building. Behind him, he could heard doors being kicked open and gunfire, and his radio resounded with shouts of _"Clear!" "Contact!" _and _"Firing!"_ Several more explosions were heard throughout the building, along with more distant gunfire and shouts and death cries throughout the club.

* * *

Zell had erupted through the door connecting the basement and kitchen the instant the go order had been issued, and barreled through the spotless food preparation area, only mildly aware that his boots were splashing in ankle-deep water from the broken piping. He slammed through the double doors connecting the kitchen and the bar and dining area, and ran headlong into two suited guards chatting by the bar. Both men had been looking up as explosions filled the nightclub, and were caught off-guard as Zell launched a vicious uppercut that plowed into the gut of the leftmost man, doubling him over and launching him a dozen feet backward.

The brawler spun at the second guard as he pulled a machine pistol from within his coat, and Zell's left hand clamped over the man's weapon hand. He twisted, and the iron-hard grip of the SeeD brawler shattered the guard's forearm in a single frighteningly violent movement. Zell's right hand lanced across, slamming into the soldier's head and hurling him backward over the bar to smash into the liquor-lined shelves directly behind it. Glass shattered in tremendous amounts, the shelves collapsing as the soldier's weight sent him falling to the floor. Shards of broken bottles, shattered shelving, and gallons of alcohol poured down around the falling soldier.

Zell heard shouts all around the main dining area and floor of the nightclub, and saw more guards bursting out of doors. Zell picked out the closest opponent and hurled himself at the man, leaping into the air as fast as he could, hurtling at the guard. He smashed into the man as he raised his weapon, legs crashing into his chest and throwing him across the room with a wild burst of automatic gunfire erupting from his gun.

Other men charged into the chamber, and then gunfire blazed all around the brawler, the SeeDs and Rangers coming out of the kitchen mere seconds behind Zell and cutting down Steele's guards.

The brawler, however, had already picked out another door, marked "Employees Only", and had kicked it down, chunks of the broken door impacting another guard beyond and staggering him. Zell rushed into the man, shoulder-blocking him with brutal force and hurling the soldier back against a wall hard enough to crack the plaster and wood.

* * *

"What the hell is going on?" Steele demanded as the resounding explosions and cracking reports of gunfire filled the silence of his club. He glanced around the room in fear, and reached into his desk, pulling a pistol from one of the drawers. Stewart and Roger rushed in, weapons in hand.

"Sir," Roger shouted. "SeeDs! CITU! They're breaking in!"

"We have to pull out!" Ed responded, grabbing his own weapon. Steele shot to his feet, and refused to argue with his bodyguards. He had them for a reason, after all. The four men quickly moved out into the next room, Steele right behind. They quickly cut around a corner and hurried down a hallway, Stewart in the lead. The guard threw a door open in front of him, and came to a stop as a soldier was hurled down the corridor before him. The tattooed brawler didn't see him, however, and he shut the door, spinning back toward the others, his expression telling Steele and his bodyguards that this route was closed. The group rapidly shifted direction, heading down another corridor.

"Back exit!" snapped Stan, and the others nodded. They charged down a second hallway, gunfire resounding throughout the club all around them.

Another door flew open, and through it came a bloodies guard, clutching his slashed throat. Stan stepped into the doorway without missing a beat, Stewart slowing and letting Ed and Roger continue to lead Steele to safety. Stan fired a single burst from his weapon, and then was sent reeling backward, chest torn open by two slender cuts. Seifer Almasy started to move through the door, and then leapt back as Stewart hosed the entrance, bullets slamming into the doorway and forcing the CITU commander back behind cover. Stewart continued down the passage, throwing a grenade behind him to discourage pursuit.

Seifer stayed behind cover as the trio of surviving bodyguards fled with Steele, and after the ear-popping grenade detonation, he pressed a finger to his ear.

"Back gate, they're headed your way. Do your thing!"

Ed and Roger ran ahead of Steele as Stewart followed behind the trio, and charged toward the back entrance. They hurried down the hallway connecting with the rear, intent on escaping, but the fleeing terrorist and his bodyguards did not miss the fact that one of the walls suddenly erupted into flame. Roger spun toward the wall as Stewart and Ed continued on with Steele, and the lingering bodyguard opened fire, bullets slamming into the flaming wall.

An instant later, the wall burst open, roaring fires shooting through it and blasting the bodyguard, intense white fires blasting him into ash in an instant. A figure leapt through the opening, his body wreathed in flames as he turned toward the fleeing terrorist.

"Quit running!" Nash shouted, brandishing the crimson-edged variant of the Revolver, fires blazing along its length as he started down the hallway. Stewart fired at the advancing Elemental, causing him to sweep an arm before him and duck, creating a white-hot wall of fires that vaporized the bullets, melting them into liquid that splattered past him. However, the brief burst of fire gave Steele all the time he needed to kick through the rear entrance alongside Ed. They dashed down the alley, Stewart right behind them, and hurried toward a parked car. Ed ran around to the driver's side, Steele opening the passenger door.

The report of gunfire filled the alleyway, and Ed lurched, stumbling back, and collapsed to the pavement. Steele spun in the direction of the gunfire, and saw Stewart walking down the alley, sub-machinegun raised to his shoulder, staring at Steele down the iron sights.

"Stewart!" he shouted "What the hell are you-"

"Drop the weapon, Steele!" snarled the treacherous bodyguard. Steele paused, glaring at his subordinate, and then suddenly dove into the car, slamming the door. Gunfire raked the vehicle, shattering windows as Steele stabbed his key into the engine and gunned it, throwing it out of park and driving forward.

"Stewart" continued firing, scything his weapon low, bullets tearing through the vehicle and puncturing a tire as Steele drove out of the alley toward the main street. He continued after the fleeing terrorist, pressing a finger to his ear as he ran toward the parking lot in front of the building.

"This is Kinneas!" he shouted. "Steele is moving toward the perimeter! GCPD, stop him!"

Irvine Kinneas, who for the last three months had been named Stewart Nikes, rushed into the parking lot and leapt into a pickup truck, his own personal vehicle, and gunned the engine. He turned the vehicle around and shot out of the parking lot after the fleeing terrorist.

"You are _not_ getting away, you son of a bitch!" Irvine growled.

All the information that he had gathered and all the intelligence that had been assembled regarding Steele had pointed to several important things, among them that he was connected with New Way's transportation system, and that he specialized in kidnappings and human transport.

In other words, if Crell's New Way insurgency had had any hand in Selphie's disappearance, Steele would know.

Irvine had waited three months to bag this terrorist scumbag. He was _not_ letting him escape now.

* * *

Allen Steele had made several upgrades to his own personal vehicle, among them an enhanced frame able to take a tremendous amount of abuse, and a tank of nitrous oxide boosters just in case he needed to make a strong getaway.

As he came around the corner, his vehicle not controlling very well due to the damage to the rear right tire, Steele saw a pair of Galbadia City police cars parked across the road, a half-dozen men in the blue-black jackets and vests of GCPD officers behind them, firing weapons as soon as they saw him. Steele accelerated, flipping the switch that gunned his nitro boosters, and jetted toward the police officers. Their bullets pockmarked the windshield and hood, but none punched through, and they had to leap aside as the car slammed into the police vehicles, the reinforced frame keeping Steele's vehicle intact and relatively undamaged as the nitros gave him all the power he needed to knock the police cars aside like toys.

Steele flew down the street as fast as he could trying to maintain control and avoid ramming any other vehicles. He glanced into his rear-view mirror, and made a mental plan to ditch his ride and hoof it on foot to another cell. He knew where several more were, scattered across the city, so he figured he'd be safe once he got rid of the damaged car -

Something slammed onto the hood of the vehicle, and Steele looked forward, half-expecting the treacherous bodyguard to have come out of nowhere like the rest of the SeeDs had been.

It wasn't Irvine, however.

All he saw was a black shadowy coat whipping in the air, glimmering red eyes glowing like blazing coals in the night, and a hand reaching back over the figure's shoulders, gripping the handle of a sword strapped to its back. Terror cut through Steele as he saw those eyes, boring into the pits of his soul, and that sword, long and slender, nearly five feet in length but less than an inch and a half across, including scabbard.

There was a flicker of motion, and the figure hopped forward onto the roof of the car as it suddenly started spinning wildly out of control. The entire vehicle seemed to drop half a foot, and terrible vibrations and the horrific screech of a metal edge being scraped up the length of the pavement filled his ears. Sparks flew from the windshield as something skittered past the front of the car. It took Steele a second to realize what it was, but the understanding filled him with a new shock and horror as the car ground to a halt.

The attacker had _sliced _the engine block and the front third of the car _completely off._

Steele stumbled out of his car, and turned, starting to run away from the figure standing atop his vehicle. He didn't look back, instead simply running, clutching his bleeding shoulder as he ran down the street.

He heard the whisper of footsteps behind him, boots tapping the pavement, and he pushed on, fear flooding his mind. He had to escape, he had to run, he had to get the hell away from whatever the hell had just destroyed his car-

Something grabbed his shoulder, and Steele was suddenly spun around with incredible force, whipping around as if he'd been grappled by a giant. As he spun around, he caught a glimpse of the figure behind him, before an iron-hard hand clamed around his throat, lifting the man up into the air, his feet flailing wildly in the air.

"You're Steele," commented the figure as he clenched his fingers around the terrorist's neck, squeezing. Steele gagged, trying to breathe. His fingers clawed at the hand around his neck, trying to loosen the fingers, but he might as well have scratched at a stone statue's embrace. The choking terrorist managed to look down at his attacker, but only saw shadow for a moment, before he realized that the man wore a wide-brimmed black hat atop his head. The figure inclined his head, raising the brim of the hat so he could look directly at his victim.

Steele looked into the burning red eyes, ones that promised pain and violent death in the near future, and started shivering in horror.

The man released his grip slightly, letting Steele manage to breathe, but only enough so he wouldn't choke to death in his grasp. The terrorist stared at those horrible eyes, gates into hell itself. He was peripherally aware of other features the man wore, barely visible in the dim light: a thick, short, and closely maintained beard running along his cheeks, jawline, and chin, an equally thick and short mustache barely visible beneath the shadow that the hat cast, and dark hair dropping to the shoulders and below.

"Steele," the man growled, eyes cutting into the terrified terrorist. "I have something to ask you. Something _very important_."

Steele gasped for air, not directly responding, though his terrified expression told his attacker that he would cooperate. The man brought the terrorist in closer, almost nose to nose, and Stele could only see those blazing eyes, filling his vision, the passages to hell inviting him in. He could almost see the demons laughing, begging to have their play with him when he arrived.

The figure held him close for an instant, and a single sentence filled the air, snarled, spoken with all the viciousness of a monster unleashedfrom the deepest, darkest pits.

"_Where is Doctor Odine?"_

* * *

Irvine's pickup careened around the corner, in full pursuit of Steele, when he saw that the car was stopped in the middle of the street, the front third of it sliced in half, and with the driver being held up in the air by someone he'd never seen before. The sharpshooter slammed on his brakes and threw the door open, leveling his sub-machinegun at the pair.

"Drop him now!" Irvine snarled, a bestial roar that sounded nothing like his usual tone of voice. The figure holding Steele paused, and looked in his direction, and Irvine froze as he saw the blood red eyes, glowing in the night, the only visible feature on the man's face; the night light was too dim for anyone to make out facial features at their distance. Irvine saw those eyes, and he suddenly remembered Quistis' briefing on what the one survivor of that massacre in Timber had reported.

"Friend of yours?" the figure asked Steele. Before Steele could respond, he looked back to Irvine. "You want him? You can have him."

His fingers released the choking terrorist, and he started to drop back to the ground. But then, the man's right hand, gripping the sword over his right shoulder, moved. Irvine saw the blade flicker, coming out of the scabbard with impossible speed, lashing down-

And Steele hit the pavement, his head rolling away from his body.

Irvine stared in shock for a moment, at the speed behind that attack, and at how the blade had moved back to its wielder's scabbard just as fast as it had left. That technique . . . _over-the-shoulder iaijutsu?_ Impossible . . . .

The second thing that Irvine realized was that Allen Steele, his best and only chance to find out what had happened to Selphie, was dead.

"You _son of a bitch!"_ he shouted, and his weapon opened up, spraying fire at the figure. There was a sudden motion from the man, and he was skittering to the side, faster than anything Irvine had seen, leaping across the pavement. Irvine whirled, stepping out from the truck, knowing that against an opponent with melee weapons, he needed more maneuvering room over cover.

But then the man reversed direction, leaping up into the air and over Irvine's stream of fire, dropping down toward the sharpshooter, one hand gripping the blade as he dropped down. Irvine dove aside, and heard the faint whisper of displaced air, and the clash of heavy steel on pavement. He came out of the dive into a roll, whipping around at this attacked, and saw the open door to his truck sliced clean off, a deep gouge in the pavement where he had been standing. The attacker had already returned his sword to its sheath, and spun on Irvine, rushing forward.

The sharpshooter then remembered the name that Quistis had given them, and flashed back to what he had learned from Squall a year ago.

_The Chimera. Is this Centra's ultimate soldier?_

The sharpshooter dropped into a crouch as the sword flashed past him, the blade barely missing his head as he rolled aside, firing in mid-motion. The Chimera weaved and stepped, seeming to dance out of Irvine's line of fire with blurring movements of his legs. The sword came off his shoulder once, then twice, each time intercepting a bullet he wasn't fast enough to dodge.

How the hell was he doing that? But Irvine didn't have time to contemplate the man's shocking speed, as his weapon ran empty. The Chimera, sensing Irvine's sudden weakness, shot ahead, hand ready to whip out his blade and finish the sharpshooter off. Irvine hopped back a step, and his hands flew into his bodyguard jacket's pockets, pulling a pair of pistols. He leveled them at his attacker, and fired two quick shots, but even as he was depressing the triggers, the Chimera shifted direction, leaping to the side and out of Irvine's line of fire.

Irvine tracked him, only to see him leap up at a lamppost and kick off, flying back toward Irvine with his weapon ready to leap out. The sharpshooter hurled himself back and away, just as the blade slashed down, cleaving through the pavement. Irvine land on his back, and rolled away, his momentum carrying him into a backflip that ended with him on his feet, firing both weapons at the Chimera. The figure ducked and weaved again, blade flying out to intercept strikes, red eyes boring into Irvine as the first seven rounds were stopped or dodged with ease.

Then he cut to the right, then jetted forward, spinning around to Irvine's left. The sharpshooter followed the attack, and instinctively dropped in to a duck and sidestep as the blade slashed out at him in a diagonal cut, slicing through the pavement. Irvine shot ahead into a shoulder-block against the Chimera's chest, shoving him backward, and snapped the pistol in his left hand out wide, the metal catching the blade as the Chimera brought it around in a quick strike without sheathing the blade. His right hand rose, pointing the pistol beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes, and fired.

The man's head snapped back, and there was the screech of a ricochet - _how the fuck? -_ and then the Chimera's right hand flew across in a powerful slug that knocked Irvine almost off his feet, sending him stumbling backward. He managed to raise both weapons again, but as he did so, the Chimera took a step backward, sheathing his weapon, but no longer gripping it.

"You have _junctions._" He cocked his head to the side. "SeeD?"

Irvine nodded, never lowering his weapons. He stared at the Chimera, eyes never wavering from his blood-red eyes, glimmering beneath that hat. Slowly, the Chimera nodded.

"Apologies. SeeD isn't my enemy." He observed Irvine. "Non-official cover agent, I'm assuming. But . . . Why did you fire at me?"

"You killed that man," Irvine snarled. "He was the only one who knew . . . ."

"Knew what?"

"What happened to Selphie . . . ."

The Chimera was silent for several moments, considering what Irvine said.

"Selphie?" he asked. "Who was she?"

"None of your business," Irvine muttered. "But now, with that man dead, I don't-"

Sirens could be heard as GCPD and CITU vehicles started closing in on the gun battle, and the Chimera looked aside. He glanced back at Irvine, and then turned.

"Hey, wait a second!" Irvine snapped, butt he Chimera was already moving, running across the street with that same impossible speed, ducking into an alleyway. Irvine pursued, shouting for him to stop. He entered the alley, and then came to an abrupt halt.

The Chimera was gone.

* * *

-

* * *

Oh my.

And that's all I've got to say about that chapter.

This is going to be my last update beforeI go back to my regular updating schedule. I should have another chapter of Mako ready to go by Friday, and then I'll be back to regular Thursday/weekend updates.

In the meantime, How 'bout I pimp my forums? Because I have forums on the sitenow! Just check my profile, it should be right under my name. Swing by there, I'm usually available to answer questions or discuss whatever.

Until next chapter...


	33. II: Blades and Feathers

_**Chapter 2: Blades and Feathers**_

"_Iaijutsu?" he asked, looking at his guest. There was a faint click as the man secured his sword, and looked up at his benefactor._

"_Exactly," he replied. _

"_That's an odd fighting style," he replied. "And most of the time its done with katana. I've never heard of anyone focusing their energy and drawing the blade over the shoulder before."_

"_Well, there's a first time for everything," he responded, walking across the room toward his vehicle. _

"_Heh. Suppose so. Take good care of that sword; not very often you get one that can channel that type of power into the blade."_

"_It's a good weapon," his guest responded as he climbed onto the motorcycle. "A very good weapon. Your specs were spot on. It'll do its job perfectly."_

"_Killing gods?" he asked, and the guest chuckled._

"_Among other things."_

_

* * *

_

"Ah, Crell! It iz good to be zeeing you once more!" Crell Varines nodded absently to the small, bobbing form of Hans Odine as the doctor walked down the concrete hallway and opened one of the reinforced steel doors at the end. The insurgent commander followed the scientist into the room beyond, which was the central control hub of the labs stationed in the Centra Crater.

Crell sniffed the air. While there was no discernable smell, he felt as if he was in a dank and dirty place. Unlike the pristine labs and white corridors that had made up the interior of the Iceblood Prison complex, the Centra Crater labs were constructed of dull gray and brown concrete and steel. Exposed piping cut across the ceilings, and the floors were a flat featureless concrete gray. It was relatively clean, but Crell just felt like these labs were rougher and less tidy than the Iceblood complex had been. Maybe it was the harsher lighting from the white overhead bulbs and non-holographic computer consoles, but Crell just didn't like this place.

Still, he couldn't complain; Iceblood had been burned, blasted, overrun by rioting prisoners, and then had been thoroughly searched by SeeD investigators shortly after the debacle at Balamb Island. Of course, they had found nothing; Crell had the labs emptied hours after the battle outside Balamb had been finished, and all surviving personnel and equipment transported to Centra.

"How is the project coming along?" Crell asked as he shut the door behind him and Odine walked over to the main control console, beneath a ten-foot high computer screen projecting data from around the labs.

"Ze tests regarding ze Requiem are still ongoing," responded Odine. "Ze subject is alive, though ze body vas not in good condition, we have restored close to ninety percent of ze original capabilitiez."

"Seawater in the lungs for several weeks tends to do that," Crell muttered. "Can the Requiem be controlled?"

"It vill follow orders," Odine responded, tapping keys on his console. "Though I suzpect that it iz vecoming more hostile toward uz. Odine iz not zure why it vould be doing zat, though . . . ."

"We never finished perfecting it," Crell replied. "Nash was behind most of the Requiem's systems, and when he cut and ran to Garden's side we lost most of the knowledge regarding the inner workings of that armor."

"Bah. All ve need is ze Prototype," Odine responded. "Once ve have her, ve can reprogram ze armor based on ze adult's data and achieve full control."

"And we have to get it soon," muttered Crell. "I cannot afford to have that creature regain full memories before we reprogram the armor. I need it under my full control. If it even begins to understand what we're doing and remembers past loyalties . . . ."

"Ja, ja, ve all die, Odine knows!" the scientist responded. "Are you fetching ze Prototype anytime zoon?"

"Its already begun," Crell replied. "Just relax. We'll have our girl soon enough." Crell looked over the screens. "How is Project Infection progressing?"

"Very good, very, very good!" Odine replied. "Ze aerosol iz complete. We are in ze prozess of zynthezizing more of ze chemecalz az ve zpeak!"

"How soon until we have enough to strike a major population center?" Crell asked, and Odine shrugged.

"Two more dayz, and ve can hit any city on ze western continent. A week, and ve can infect half of Esthar."

"Excellent," Crell whispered. "Excellent news, Doctor."

_All I need is the Prototype, and in a week, this war will be over. The world will be mine, as it always should have been._

* * *

Metal rang against metal in the salty air, filling the small training circle with the clash of weapons. The lithe girl in the middle of the arena hopped back a step as her opponent disengaged his weapon and shot ahead with a thrust. Her staff snapped across, catching the blade of the rifle's bayonet and spinning it around, slamming it to the hard rubber turf beneath their feet, even as her right leg snapped up at his head. He had already ducked back, however, and retreated, raising his weapon. 

Serra pursued, black hair flying back as she shot ahead at her opponent, side stepping low and to the side, her staff flying forward in an arcing thrust that smacked the weapon along its barrel. The rifle flew out wide, and her weapon shot into the gap, almost striking his chest before his left hand rose up and parried the strike.

"Good!" her trainer responded, grinning, as she pulled her staff back. "Adaptive, improvising, aggressive. You've got the core of the style down." Serra nodded, taking a step back and lowering her staff. She let out a deep breath as the SeeD retracted the bayonet on his rifle. "Well, that's all for today. Keep practicing with that weapon, and work on that defensive stance. Can't be retreating all the time. I'll see you again on Wednesday."

Roughly a hundred feet away, seated on one of the benches scattered around the open air exterior of Galbadia Garden, Quistis watched Serra nod. Beyond the girl and her instructor, the skyline of Dollet could be seen against the red cliffs, the mid-morning sunlight cast across the dark, quaint structures of the city. One could see the city starting to stir, and even vehicles moving along the docks the Garden was stationed at, transporting troops and supplies back and forth between the city and the ship.

"How is her training coming?"

Quistis looked up from the training circle, to see the blonde form of General Randolph, head of the Dollet military, standing behind her. He was watching Serra as she bowed to the SeeD instructor, who replied with a bow of his own in the traditional Garden farewell to trainers and instructors.

"Very well," Quistis answered, turning toward the Dollet officer. The man nodded, and Quistis caught a bit of movement behind him, from a SeeD in the Balamb Garden uniform, standing discreetly off to the side, observing their surroundings. He was one of a half dozen SeeDs Seifer had hand-picked for Serra's security detail.

"I can definitely see some of Sq-" Quistis paused for a moment at the painful memory. "-her father in her. She's nearly mastered several forms of staff combat already, and is only getting better. I think she's advancing almost as fast as . . . as Squall did when he was training."

"I see," Randolph replied as the girl collapsed her staff into a short handle and started walking toward the pair.

"Was there something you needed?" Quistis asked after a second, and the General looked away from Serra and nodded.

"Yes, I do, actually," he replied. "Have your people finished analyzing the data recovered from that nightclub raid in Dollet last night?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Quistis replied, sighing. "It looks like Crell's terrorists hid most of the data very well. Steele himself had nearly no incriminating evidence on his laptop, just notes on small criminal contacts who look like they have no connection to New Way beyond working as grunts and couriers. The courier that was supposed to pick up this week's income and transport it elsewhere was nowhere to be found."

"I heard that your people had taken a technician alive," Randolph asked, and Quistis nodded.

"He was fairly low-level, but it looks like he had some knowledge of this 'ShadowNet' that they've been using," she replied. "He's being interrogated right now."

"I also heard another disturbing report," Randolph added as Serra drew closer. "Kinneas encountered someone while pursuing Steele."

"Yes, we're looking into that," Quistis replied. "We're comparing Irvine's reports with what we got from that captured survivor of the massacre outside Timber. So far, the reports have been consistent."

"The Chimera," Randolph stated quietly.

"We have no idea who this man calling himself the Chimera really is," Quistis added. "All we know is that he's hostile toward Crell's agents, but has so far not been cooperating with us."

"He's a vigilante," Randolph added. "We need to find out what his agenda is. Our troops were ready to hit that cell outside Timber, and then he kills one of the logistical heads of New Way right when we're about to capture him. He may think he's helping us, but he's just killing our efforts to gather intel on the enemy."

"More importantly, I want to know how he knew where these cells were located," Quistis added. "Either he's got an inside line on our operations, or he's got a leak within Crell's organization. Either one would be very important."

"If it's a leak within Garden and CITU, we've got to plug it," Randolph mused. "But if its an inside line within Crell's agency, maybe he's cracked this ShadowNet or has a leak of his own. We need to find that and exploit it."

Serra had finally finished crossing the training yard as Randolph was speaking, a smile on her face. Both Quistis and Randolph broke their conversation as she approached, gladly shifting away from such pressing matters.

"We you two watching me?" she asked, and Quistis nodded, a smile appearing on her face, while the General still seemed troubled.

"Your style is improving," Quistis replied, and Serra nodded.

"I . . . I didn't want to rely entirely on Phoenix or Diablos to protect me," she said, her smile fading slightly. "I mean, they kept me safe while I was in Trabia, but now, I think I need to rely on myself to defend myself. I still don't have total control over Diablos . . . ."

"But you have much more control over him now than you did a year ago," Quistis added, and Serra nodded, smiling again. "And you're as good with a staff as many SeeDs."

"I know," she replied, nodding. "I think it comes from my father." She paused as she spoke those words, and noticed Quistis' expression seem to darken for a moment. "I . . . wish I had known him better. I barely even saw him before he died. Rinoa keeps telling me so much about him . . . ."

"He was a good man," Quistis stated after a second. She let out a quiet sigh of her own, barely audible over the wind. She opened her mouth to speak again, to comment on how Serra was so markedly similar to her father, when there was a sudden flicker in the back of her mind, a sensation of distant pain and danger.

Then, behind the Galbadia Garden Commander, one of Serra's discreet bodyguard SeeDs fell to the dirt, blood fountaining from the back of his neck.

* * *

"Has he said anything useful?" Irvine asked as he walked down the featureless gray-white hallway within Galbadia City's local CITU office. Beside him, Rinoa shook her head as she went through a binder full of files. 

"He keeps saying he's just a technician," she replied with a shrug. "But from what I heard in that alley, he's got extensive understanding of this ShadowNet that Crell's terrorists have been using."

"Okay," Irvine replied, scratching his chin, where a rough stubble had been growing over the last few days. He hadn't shaved in a while, and his brown hair was growing out longer than it should have been, forcing the sharpshooter to actually loop it in a thick braid. Clad in a simple black T-shirt and jeans, he looked nothing like the sharpshooter he'd been a year ago.

Rinoa, on the other hand, seemed almost exactly the same as she had before the battle at Centra. She'd cut her hair shorter, to about chin length, but otherwise seemed just as slender and lithe as always. It wasn't until one looked into her eyes that they saw where the real change had taken place. When Squall had died, something in her had as well . . . and the woman that was left seemed less vibrant and lifelike, and instead almost clinical and cold. She reminded Irvine of Squall in a way . . . back before he had warmed up to Rinoa.

"We've been trying to avoid using more forceful interrogation methods," Rinoa explained. "He has offered to cut us a deal. Immunity in exchange for information."

"What kind of information?" Irvine asked as they entered the main office area, where investigators and agents were seated in and around and number of desks, filing reports and going over information.

"He didn't give anything concrete," Rinoa stated as they moved through the room and into another hallway, down a corridor to the holding and interrogation rooms. "Mostly hints about the workings of the ShadowNet and possibly some other information." She stopped at a door marked "Interrogation Three" and opened it, stepping into a darkened antechamber where a SeeD and a Galbadian CITU agent were observing the captured technician, behind a one-way mirror in the next room. Rinoa set the file binder down and regarded the technician.

"Has he said anything new?" she asked, and both of the agents shook their heads. "Okay, fine. I'll talk with him."

"You need help?" Irvine asked, and Rinoa shook her head. She swiped a card key over the lock sealing the door, and walked into the room to speak with the captive. Irvine stared at the man with detached interest as he settled back in his chair, and felt a twinge of anger at the technician's slight smug expression as Rinoa tried to convince him to talk. He responded calmly regarding their deal and stated he wouldn't speak any more until he'd gotten a pardon from the heads of state of Esthar, Galbadia, and Dollet, and from the Headmaster of Garden.

The door to the antechamber opened again, and Irvine glanced over at the SeeD who entered, a grim expression on his normally jovial face. Irvine nodded to Zell, who nodded back, and then looked through the mirror.

"Bastard said anything?" Zell asked, and Irvine shook his head. "Damn. We think he knows more than he's letting on."

"Really?" Irvine asked, and Zell nodded.

"Technical just got back on several of the laptops we recovered from the nightclub. We pieced together a fragment of an e-mail that said that some of the guards didn't trust the technicians, as they supposedly know a lot more than they should."

"Interesting," Irvine muttered, and Zell nodded.

"Because they have access to the ShadowNet, they have a lot of additional information. Troop deployments, attack schedules, logistics, personnel, and more." Irvine nodded again, but then stopped, going stiff, and looked to Zell with widened eyes.

"Did you say personnel?" Irvine asked, and Zell shrugged.

"They might," he explained. "Looks like once you access the ShadowNet, you can know anything regarding Crell's ops. Including where he's moving troops and equipment."

"And people he could have kidnapped," Irvine muttered, and Zell glanced at his friend, and took a step backward in surprise. The sharpshooter's fists were clenched tightly, hands trembling as he grit his teeth together.

Then Irvine walked over to the door leading into the interrogation room and swiped his card over the reader. Zell opened his mouth to protest the intrusion, and Rinoa looked up, surprised to see Irvine barging in. The sharpshooter reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, drawing a picture of Selphie from within, and circled around the table.

"Irvine, what are you-" Rinoa began, but was cut off as Irvine thrust the picture intot he tech's face.

"Have you seen this girl?" Irvine shouted in the man's face. The tech recoiled for a second at the force in the SeeD's voice, and then looked at Selphie's picture. Irvine watched the man's eyes as they flicked over the photo, and he caught something in his gaze - _recognition._

"Where is she?" Irvine snarled, and the tech looked up at the SeeD, and then . . . he _smiled._

"I want immunity first," he said calmly. "I'll tell you everything you want to know, but not until I get my pardon."

"The _fuck_ you will," Irvine growled, taking a step back and drawing his pistol. He leveled it at the technician's forehead and pulled back the hammer.

"Irvine!" Rinoa shouted. "Irivne, put the weapon down now!"

"Tell me where she is!" Irvine ordered, sighting the technician's smiling face. The man settled further back into his chair, his expression telling the SeeD that he _knew_ Irivine wouldn't fire.

"Talk!" Irvine ordered, and then sun, using his left hand to lift up the table and hurl it against the far wall. The technician watched the furniture fly across the room with dispassionate eyes, and smiled again even as the sharpshooter strode forward, pressing his pistol to his temple.

"I'm giving you _one. Last. Chance._" Irvine hissed, circling around the technician.

"Kinneas!" Rinoa shouted, using his last name for emphasis. "I am ordering you to put that weapon down now!" Irvine, stepping around behind the technician, looked up at her for a moment, and caught something in her eyes . . . a subtle approval. The sharpshooter nodded, and smacked the back of the tech's head.

"This _scum_ knows where Selphie is, and if he won't tell me where she's at, I'm going to cave in his skull and dig out the intel myself!"

If the technician possessed any fear or interest, he didn't show it, remaining firmly seated as Irvine came around beside the man. They met eyes again, and Irvine caught a nod from Rinoa out the corner of his eye.

He jabbed the pistol into the man's thigh and pulled the trigger.

* * *

The first bodyguard had barely hit the ground when the other three SeeDs scattered around the training field collapsed as well. As they fell, there were faint flickers of motion in the air, subtle distortions, like rising currents of heat or ripples in water, drifting through the air. 

"Active camouflage!" Quistis warned, and spun to her left, where she sensed an attack coming. Her whip snapped out in her hands, and the blade of the chain whip rang against light metal. She caught a shift in the dirt beneath where the sound of the impact had come from, and flicked her wrist, causing the whip to shift angle slightly, and wrap around something invisible to her eyes. She tugged, hard, and something became visible, what looked like an extendable quarterstaff, much like Serra's own weapon.

Serra reacted instantly tot he warning, as did her Guardians. For an instant, there were black and white mists swirling about her body, and the leathery wing of Diablos and the multicolored feathered wing of Phoenix became visible on her shoulders. The staff she held extended outward, and the leathery wing made a motion, sending a pulse of shadow arcing around Serra's position. The darkness played over several figures as they moved through the air, dispersing their camouflage fields and revealing them.

They wore jet black versions of regular Estharian armor, and wielded quarterstaffs much like Serra's and the one Quistis had pulled out of the hands of another attacker. Their bug-like helmets featured blood red visors, which glowed against the matte black armor they wore as they rushed in, abandoning subtlety in the face of their unmasking. their movements were quick and almost unnatural . . . almost robotic.

Estharian cyborg commandos. And judging by the active camouflage . . . they were assassins.

And they were going straight for Serra.

General Randolph watched the attackers advance on Serra, and he reached for his sidearm, only to find he wasn't wearing it, having not expected cyborg commando assassins to almost literally pop out of thin air in the middle of Garden. However, even without a sidearm, he did carry a heavy combat knife that most people would more accurately call a short sword. He reached down to is boot, where the balde was starpped, and then felt a sudden presence behind him.

Acting on pure instinct, the General spun, right hand shooting up at the wavering presence behind him, and closed his hand around the front of the Estharian's mask. The cyborg, shocked by the speed of the Dollet General, was still off-guard when Randolph drove a shocking left uppercut into its solar plexus, stunning and doubling over the assassin. Randolph snatched out his knife and flipped it into an overhand grip, and then stabbed the blade down into the commando's helmet. The heavy blade punched straight through the metal, into the cyborg's head, and Randolph slammed his fist down on the handle, driving the blade deeper into the assassin's brain.

The commando slumped, and Randolph tore the blade out of the cyborg's head and spun on the foes surrounding Serra.

The girl found herself being encircled by six of the black-clad assassins, and even as she deflected the first strike aiming for her head, her Guardians responded to the assault. Phoenix went in one direction, Diablos the other, and white fire and night-black shadow erupted from her wings. an assassin to her left and to her right fell, one blasted into ash by the holy fire of the Guardian of Life, and the other having its life-force torn from it by the Guardian of Shadow. Her staff whirled before her, the metal ringing on the metal of her enemies, staves interlocking and clashing as she desperately gave ground and tried to fend off her foes.

One of the cyborgs stopped as it advanced, however, head arcing back as General Randolph fell upon it from behind, his huge knife stabbing up into the back of its neck and twisting upward, the blade cutting through cybernetic processors and organic brain matter, killing the assassin instantly. Randolph grabbed the assassin by the back of its armor and tore his blade free, lifting the cybernetic commando with both hands and hurling the limp body at another black-clad foe. They went down in a tumble of limbs and staves.

Serra, now with only two foes before her, suddenly went on the offensive. She stopped her retreat cold and bulled ahead, staff whipping before her to catch a strike from one assassin and turn it, forcing her foe's metal rod into the path of the other's and tangling them up for an instant. Her weapon shot into the gap, slamming one cyborg's head, and crashing into the second's stomach, causing it to double over. Her weapon crashed into the back of the cyborg's head, knocking it flat to the ground, and Diablos struck. The leathery wing swept forward, shadow wreathing it, and struck the standing cyborg, immolating it in black fire that burned away its spirit and sent it flopping tot he ground, twitching uncontrollably. Phoenix took advantage of the prone assassin, and fire burned through its torso, scorching the earth beneath it and ensuring it wouldn't rise again.

The single foe Quistis faced rushed at her, still not completely visible, and she sensed it drawing a second weapon, a sword of some kind. It closed in, and she looped her whip, snapping it ahead and back, arcing it around the cyborg's sword and catching the chain with her other hand as it came around. A simple twist of her inhumanly strong wrist took the weapon from the cyborg's hands, causing it to stumble forward, and she stepped ahead, planting a forward snap-kick to its forehead. The assassin fell backward, dazed, and took the curving blade of Quistis' whip dead center in its masked face. Only as it hit the ground did the active camouflage fade away.

The last assassin pushed the fallen corpse of its comrade off of itself, in time for Randolph, knife held in an overhand grip, fell upon it, driving it to the ground and stabbing viciously. After four rapid overhand jabs into its masked face, the assassin went still, and the blood-stained General rose, crimson dripping from his blade.

And just as suddenly as their attack had come, the assassins' assault was over.

* * *

Irvine wiped a couple of droplets of blood from his face as the technician screamed, looking down at his leg as blood fountained over his thigh. The sharpshooter calmly cocked back the hammer for his weapon and pointed it at the man's leg again. 

"Tell me!" he snarled, and his left hand grabbed the man's face, twisting his expression to look into Irvine's eyes. "Tell me now!"

The man seemed to resist for a moment, but then Irvine stuck his pistol, the barrel still hot from firing, into the technician's bleeding wound, and his scream redoubled.

"Tell me now or I'll shoot out your other leg, and then your calves, and your biceps, and then I'll start blasting off every finger-"

"Centra!" he screamed, and Irvine pressed his pistol even deeper.

_"Where?"_

The technician rattled off a stream of coordinates, and Irvine nodded. With a callousness that would have shocked even the sharpshooter himself if he had been thinking, he pistol-whipped the technician, knocking him out of his chair and to the floor. He turned away from the whimpering terrorist, pistol dripping blood, and nodded to Rinoa, who looked at the mirror.

"You get all that?" she asked.

"Yes . . . yes ma'am," came the reply over the intercom.

"The Commander's going to be furious when she finds out what we've done," remarked Irvine, and Rinoa shrugged, honestly not caring. After seeing how much death that scum like that tech had wrought, no one present had any sympathy for them.

They stepped into the antechamber, as Zell was hanging up a wall-mounted phone.

"Called some medics to take care of him," remarked the brawler. "But if it were up to me I'd let him roll around in there a while longer. Arrogant son of a . . . ." He glanced to Irvine as the sharpshooter wiped off his bloody pistol. "So, we have any idea now where they've taken her?"

"Coordinates inside Centra," responded Irvine. "Not sure what we'll find there, but I'm not for sitting around here and waiting to find out."

The door into the antechamber opened again, and stepping through it came Seifer Almasy, who glanced into the interrogation room. His gaze lingered over the hurled table, the blood on the floor, the whimpering, wounded technician who clutched his leg, and he looked to the trio.

"How many bullets?" he asked, and Irvine held up a single finger. Seifer frowned. "Pussy. He should have taken at least two before giving up."

"Well, I did stick my pistol into his injury," Irvine explained. "I wanted him coherent."

"He give us what we wanted?" Seifer asked, and Rinoa nodded.

"We've got coordinates for a location in Centra," she explained.

"Good," he replied. "I'll relay a report to Garden and get a CITU strike team assembled." As he spoke, the door opened again, and a SeeD medical team hurried in, with a stretcher, and entered the interrogation room. They didn't bat an eye at the bullet wound or the blood that covered the floor or the strewn furniture.

"And then we're going to go find Selphie," Irvine stated intently, and Seifer nodded.

* * *

It was three hours later. 

The wind gently caressed the two men as they stood on one of the bluffs overlooking Galbadia City. The one in the dark coat, with the red eyes and wide-brimmed hat, sat astride his motorcycle as he looked at the other. Long brown hair flew about in the wind as the man held out a binder.

"They know about the lab," he remarked as the man atop the motorcycle took the binder. He rifled through the contents and nodded.

"Steele wasn't lying," he mused. "This is everything you had on the Requiem?"

"Right," he reasoned, and the red-eyed man settled back onto his bike and reached up, scratching at something beneath his hat..

"You're going with them?"

"They're going to attack what looks like the most important facility in Crell's network," explained the brown-haired scientist. "They'll need a bit of fire and chaos if they expect to get inside."

"Unless I beat them to it," muttered the figure atop his motorcycle, slipping the binder within his coat. He hooked a thumb inside the bandoleer that kept his sword strapped to his back, ensuring it was secure, and glanced back at his comrade.

"All of our mistakes are hidden inside that lab," he whispered. "We have to destroy it, before Hyne uses it to her own ends."

"Agreed." The wind picked up, throwing dirt and dust past the two men, and the scientist turned around and started walking away. "You'd better get moving. SeeD won't wait around to hit that lab. If you want to get the answers we need from Odine and fix this mess, we can't stand here with our dicks in the wind."

The man atop the motorcycle chuckled, and engaged the ignition. With a resounding roar that echoed off the bluffs and ridges around the pair, the vehicle shot forward and started flying across the Galbadian countryside, tearing across the plains and hills.

Within moments, the rider was gone.

* * *

-

* * *

I'm surprised at how short this chapter turned out. Ah well. Vicious assassins, interrogations, and more mysterious conspiricies oh my!

Apologies for the realtive lateness and shortness of this chapter. I've been busy, getting back into college and working on two other large-scale projects at the same time. Ah well.

Until next chapter...


	34. III: Calm

_**Chapter 3: Calm**_

_He collapsed to his knees, panting heavily, and clutched at his chest. Ragged breaths escaped his lungs as he looked up at his attacker, narrowing his eyes. Though no wind blew through the still forest surrounding them, his beard waved uncontrollably, as if buffeted by a non-existent breeze_

_"What's wrong? Break a hip?" asked the figure standing before him, black cloak shrouding his body, a hood covering his youthful face, and a scythe balanced across his shoulders. "Seriously, Ramuh. You're getting way too weak if we can take you down this quickly."_

_"Don't count me out yet, Hades," Ramuh snarled, shakily standing to his feet. The Guardian of Storms clenched his feet and gritted his teeth, and swirling winds cut through the forest around him. "You may have the advantage of numbers, but I've got-"_

_The winds died down instantly, and Ramuh's channeled power vanished. The Guardian's knees went weak, and he stumbled backward. He managed a choked gasp of pain, and that wheezing sound was accompanied by childish, innocent laughter._

_"You . . . ." he hissed, shaking his head. He started to focus his power again, to unleash a hellish storm of destruction, but there was a whisper of movement, and his power dimmed once more. "I . . . how did you . . . ."_

_"Temporal mechanics are so amusing," responded the little girl as she strode toward Ramuh. She glanced at the jet black fan in her left hand, and giggled again. "I was always stronger than you, Storm. Stronger than any Guardian, save Existence. And now, since I absorbed all the power I gave up in the alternate timeline . . . ."_

_"Impossible," Ramuh gasped, and, to refute his words, the silvery fan in her other hand waved forward. The trees behind the Guardian shattered, blasted apart as a force of pure destruction and unmaking slammed into him, hurling him backward. The very air exploded, ripped asunder by the power of Hyne, Guardian of The End._

_Ramuh fell tot he dirt, and started to push himself up, shaking his head defiantly as he glared at the innocuous girl and her cloaked companion._

_"You will not win, Hyne," he declared. "I . . . we cannot be-"_

_"Stuff it," Hades barked. he glanced at Hyne, who smiled and nodded. Calmly, Hades drew the scythe off his back, and his visage burned away, revealing the fire blackened skull beneath his skin. He strode toward Ramuh, weapon held loosely in his hands, and chuckled quietly._

_"I was thinking of a gift for you, something to remember us by up until we unmake existence," Hades stated. He paused over Ramuh, and shrugged. "Unfortunately, they were all out of despair. So, we have another lovely parting gift for the loser." The scythe rose up over Ramuh's prone body._

_"It's Death!" Hades shouted with a smile._

* * *

It had been four years since the Battle of Good Hope, where Balamb and Galbadia Gardens had slammed headlong into each other, and the brief but bloody Sorceress War between SeeD and Galbadia had met an abrupt ending. At the edge of the Cape of Good Hope, a small set of ruined marble buildings and a solitary stone lighthouse had stood silent witnesses to the two massive airships colliding to the north.

The ruined structures had been the home and orphanage of Edea Kramer, long since abandoned by her and her children, but after the war had ended, the buildings had been repaired, the stone rebuilt, and the structures repopulated. Only a small number of orphans lived in the orphanage now, but their caretaker, Edea Kramer, watched over them as diligently as she had her previous charges nearly two decades before.

And, in a moment of pleasant irony, many of the old generation of Edea's children were present on this day, visiting the orphanage as adults, but only partially to visit their old Matron.

"I'm sorry to see you again under these circumstances, Matron," Quistis apologized as she sat down on the faded chair in the main living room of the orphanage. She looked around the interior of the structure, and was filled with a rush of nostalgia as she saw the old stone she had lived under so long ago. Though it had been reworked and replaced, and the austere interior now featured a little bit more furnishings and a bit more advanced technology than she remembered, the room still felt exactly like it had when she had lived there.

"Its fine, Quistis," Edea replied, smiling as she sat within a chair of her own, the sunlight from outside falling one her form. Despite her age, Edea Kramer still looked barely out of her twenties, and the battles and stress she had encountered in her long life seemed to leave little wear on her body. It was as if she was sustained entirely by the joy of her children, as if the laughter of the playing orphans outside the window boosted her life as it seemed to boost her spirits.

"I know that you have very pressing matters at hand, and your responsibilities come first," Edea added, and Quistis nodded.

"We figured that since we'd be landing and staging from this rough region while waiting to move, we might as well visit you here," Quistis continued. She had chosen to bring the small strike team she had assembled, consisting entirely of herself, Seifer, Irvine, Rinoa, Nash, Zell and (much to Seifer's grudging approval) Serra to Edea's orphanage while waiting to attack Crell's base. Weather reports indicated that a large, powerful storm would be striking the facility they were to attack tomorrow, which would provide the assault team with all the cover they would need to land a small strike force to go in and neutralize the target. In the meantime, they would drop by the orphanage to visit Edea and prepare for combat.

"This place is just like I remembered it," Quistis added with a nostalgic smile.

"While a lot of the buildings were damaged over the years, I used my old memories to help guide me in rebuilding this place," Edea replied. "Though you may have seen that I let much of the damaged stonework lay where it had fallen." Quistis nodded as she remembered many of the fallen pillars and debris. It was part of Edea's philosophy to let what had collapsed lay, as a reminder of what had already passed, and to let new work stand where the old had fallen, as a sign of the future.

Matron sat forward slightly, and her features seemed to become more serious.

"How have you been since you were last here?" she asked Quistis, and the Headmaster settled back in her chair, taking a quiet breath and slowly releasing it.

"It has been difficult," she replied. "We suffered so much pain since the war ended. We lost Balamb Garden, so many thousands of men and women died, and Squall . . . ." she shook her head. "And now Selphie's missing too. With all the violence that's been occurring over the last year, we're still catching up, each in our own way. We're all hoping that once we complete this mission, we may come close to finding Selphie and finally bringing the war to an end." Quistis shook her head. "I still think that Squall won't rest peacefully until we put an end to this whole thing and bring Crell to justice."

"I believe Squall will rest just fine," Edea answered. "He knows that his closest friends are leading the quest to stop the ones who killed him, and I believe that he knows that you can prevail." Quistis considered her words, and nodded to herself.

"But we still don't have any idea what's happening in regards to the real enemy," Quistis added. "I think that this whole New Way insurgency is just to keep us busy while Hyne finishes her plot, whatever that is."

Edea didn't immediately answer, instead mulling over what Quistis was speaking of. truth be told, Edea had known the realities revolving around Hyne for some time, but had rarely spoken of them with other people. She fully understood the implications of what would happen if Hyne won, however.

"I have been feeling . . . disturbances," Edea admitted after a moment.

"Disturbances?"

"I can sense it," Edea explained. "I'm not sure how. Perhaps it is that we Sorceresses posses a fragment of Hyne's power ourselves, but I have felt her. She is moving, acting, and her actions are causing echoes. You . . . you said that magic was failing?"

"Yes," Quistis replied. "SeeD and regular para-magic are failing. Selphie and Irvine first noticed it in Trabia, and now, its spreading. Any unjunctioned magic seems to fade away, and when cast, the power of the spell is reduced. Its been getting worse lately; even powerful magic and Forbidden-class spells are weakened to almost nothing. The only magic that seems safe is Guardian Force summons and whatever we've got junctioned to our bodies and minds." Quistis paused, thinking. "We first encountered this in Trabia. You think this is Hyne's doing?"

"It may very well be, Quistis," Edea replied, shaking her head, uncertain. "I do not know. Perhaps if my power was stronger, I could see more clearly. But there is no Sorceress left with the power to truly see as we once could. Hyne has taken all that strength back into herself."

"If that's the case," Quistis muttered, closing her eyes. "If Hyne has that much power . . . then who can stop her?"

"I am not certain," Edea replied, shaking her head with uncertainty. "That man who joined you earlier, Nash, is powerful, but I do not think even one such as he can stand up against Hyne. At her current level of power, she seems to be even stronger than the mightiest of Guardians." Edea paused, and then looked at Quistis again. "But . . . ."

"But?" Quistis said, opening her eyes and staring at Edea intently.

"There is one who might be able to stop her," Edea explained. "I haven't heard much in regards to him, but I know he has returned."

"The Chimera," Quistis whispered, and Edea nodded.

"Yes. Him. If there is anyone who could stand against Hyne, it is the one who goes by that name. The ultimate warrior."

* * *

Seifer trailed behind Serra as she stood along one of the paths leading through Edea's small villa, looking out over the vast flower garden that the Sorceress had sown so long ago. He watched her as she cast her gaze over the field, a smile coming to her lips.

"These flowers . . . they're _beautiful!_" Serra took a step out into the field, taking off her shoes and letting her bare feet touch the warm, rich brown dirt and green stalks of the colorful ocean before her.

"Yeah," Seifer replied, closing his eyes. He thought back to the flower field decades ago, but couldn't immediately remember what they looked like. The damn Guardian Forces were still screwing with his ancient memories. "Edea . . . Matron planted these a long time ago." He paused, thinking back over the madness he had instigated four years ago. It was amazing at how far he ha come in these last few years; going from a rogue cadet to a lunatic knight to the leader of a hopeless band of prisoners to heading up an anti-terrorism task force.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Seifer muttered behind her, and Serra looked away from the flower field and back at him.

"Why?" she asked, surprised at the sudden apology.

"You were attacked yesterday," he explained quietly. "I . . . should have been there to protect you." Serra went silent for a moment, and then smiled. she walked back across the field and punched Seifer in the shoulder playfully.

"That wasn't your fault," she responded with a smile. "Besides, Quistis and the General were there to keep me safe. We handled them without any trouble."

"But I should have been there," Seifer said, shaking his head. "I'm your bodyguard. I shouldn't be in charge of this operation if I can't keep you-"

"Seifer," Serra said suddenly, sharply. She put her hands on her hips, and the commander looked up at her. She reached forward and grabbed the sides of his jaw, ensuring she was looking headlong into the eyes. "Zell taught me a phrase. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." She pushed him back a step, and the shocked Seifer nearly tripped over a fallen marble column before he caught himself.

"Wh . . . what?" he managed to say. "I'm going to have to talk to Chicken-Wuss about what he's been teaching you." Serra let out a light chuckle, and Seifer sat down on the marble column as she turned and walked back out onto the field. After a moment of looking around, she started moving out into the sea of colors.

"Hey, where are you going?" Seifer called after her, about to stand up and follow.

"I can't see the whole thing sitting back here," she replied. She looked back and smiled at Seifer. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. The flowers don't bite!"

Seifer opted to take Serra's advice, and shut up. He added sitting down to the list of things to do, and plopped back down onto the marble column, frowning in slight annoyance.

_She is_ way_ too much like her mother._

And as if summoned by that thought, Seifer heard the quiet clipping of boots behind him, and knew immediately who it was from the sound and their light steps. He glanced back over his shoulder anyway, to see Rinoa standing behind him. Like everyone else, she looked like someone who'd been prepping for combat and then got stopped in the middle of gearing up.

"Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her?" Rinoa asked quietly, watching Serra move out into the flower field, and Seifer grunted. She looked down at the commander, and caught his annoyed expression.

"Just watching her, you'd think that she didn't just barely fend off a squad of Estharian cyborg assassins trying to kidnap her just yesterday," he explained. "And considering how little combat experience . . . well, relatively speaking, she has, I'm amazed she's able to cope so well." He leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows against his thighs. "She's made of some seriously stern stuff."

"Wonder where she got it from?" Rinoa remarked, and Seifer shrugged.

"Well, she basically told me to sit down and shut up after I told her she should be more careful and complained about me not being around to protect her . . . ." At that, Rinoa managed a slight laugh.

"I can't imagine anyone telling you that and walking away," she remarked, and Seifer snorted and sat back.

"Well, don't expect many people to get away with it," he responded quickly. "Serra's a special exception."

"Because you're sweet on her," Rinoa replied.

Seifer sat forward, flubbing something in absolute shock at what Rinoa had just stated. She had delivered it as matter-of-factly as if she had been reporting the weather conditions, and was now looking down at him with an amused smile as he tried to twist his mouth around to properly speak a denial. Of course, if it had been a few years ago and just some random SeeD or cadet who had spoken, Seifer would have instantly burst out laughing and told whoever it was to politely fuck off, because he was Seifer Almasy, and Seifer Almasy didn't bog himself down with girls.

But in this case, he couldn't do such a thing, mainly because it was Rinoa who was speaking to him about it, and more importantly, she was _right._

Okay. He had just mentally admitted it. Rinoa was right. And the fact that he accepted and understood the fact slammed the commander like a tidal wave. After all, he was _Seifer Almasy._ The cool, calm, confident, prodigal SeeD cadet with his own little clique, that everyone admired but no one could get close to because he was too good for them, and they knew it. The talented one, who was going places, who wasn't going to be bogged down by rules or women or common sense. A man who forged his own path, who wasn't hampered by everyone else's mores. A rebel, a renegade, a lone swordsman who shot for the top and let nothing stop him.

And there he was, Seifer Almasy, Commander of CITU, hunting down terrorists for the sake of the world and getting all fluttery-hearted for, of all people, _Squall Leonhart's_ daughter. And over to his left, getting poked about it by, of all people, her mother, who was a year younger than him.

_What the fuck?_

Those three words defined precisely what was going through his head at that moment, and after a second, he stood up. Huffing in pestered annoyance, he started across the flower field, following Serra as she ambled through the colorful sea.

"So, now what?" Rinoa asked as he moved away.

"I'm following her to make sure she doesn't get into trouble, okay?" he snapped in anger. But like a dragon that had been de-clawed and with its teeth cut out, he was just growling in harmless frustration. He didn't hear Rinoa's quiet laughter as he walked away across the field.

Of course, he wasn't going to admit it outright to Rinoa that she _was_ right. Seifer was attracted to Serra, and he didn't know why. Dammit, the girl was how old? Four years? But she sure as hell didn't act like she was that young. Her mind and mental ability was as developed as any matured adult's, and the only thing separating her from everyone else - and him - was her short lifetime, limited experiences, and insular upbringing in the heart of the Trabian wilderness. Aside from that, she was a lot like any other young woman.

_Well, aside from apparently being the center-piece to whatever Hyne is planning. And having been stillborn and then revived as a test subject by Crell's scientists. And being an Elemental who burned down ten thousand Estharians with laser precision. Aside from that she's a perfectly ordinary, stable twenty-year-old woman._

And of course, she was Squall and Rinoa's kid. Who the fuck would have thought that Seifer Almasy would be attracted to _their_ daughter? Hell, he half-expected the lovechild of his annoying silence and discipline and her openness and cheery nature to result in a massive detonation that would destroy the universe. But instead, he got . . . this girl. As happy and carefree - and, he privately admitted, _beautiful_ - as her mother, and as lethal, calm, and controlled as her father, all mixed with a wide-eyed innocence and curiosity that Seifer just found himself drawn towards.

_Seifer, you're a fucking mess. Pull yourself together, you've got a job to do._

* * *

Rinoa watched Seifer as he cut across the field, and continued to quietly laugh to herself. he was acting ridiculous; the Seifer she had known a few years ago would never act as he had. he was clearly growing out of that old arrogant phase; his time as a leader and general had clearly helped him mature a lot.

In fact, over the last year they had all had to mature a lot. In the four years since the war against Ultimecia, the small company and family that Rinoa and her friends had aged and matured. They had fought through conflict and peace, and had been tempered and experienced by the ravages of war; they were not the same idealistic children they had been before Ultimecia had begun her war. And here they were, four years later, hardened by tragedy and loss and their extended conflict with evil. Everyone had loved and lost in the last war; Squall's death left terrible echoes in their group, and Selphie's disappearance had further broken their band. Irvine was a mess, even though he tried to cover it up; Quistis was still dealing with her position of power and trying to fill in the void left when Squall died and Balamb Garden sank; Seifer was torn between his duty as a commander and his attraction to Serra, and Zell was quietly combating both his own anger at Squall's death and the overwhelming surge of responsibility that he had to be feeling now that he knew he was going to be a father.

And Rinoa . . . she had hardened. Squall's death had nearly killed her as well, and while everyone assumed the rumors about her considering suicide were just rumors, she had honestly considered it. The thought of those ideas in her mind made the woman shudder; she still remembered clutching a pistol in the shadows of midnight, sobbing and asking the empty night why Squall had been taken from her. But now . . . she had toughened. She had hardened her heart and her body and her mind, instilling herself with the same discipline Squall had known for so many years; the discipline that had let him survive those years after he had seen terrible grief as well.

"I forgot how beautiful they were," remarked a voice behind her, and Rinoa stiffened slightly. The familiar tone of the speaker's voice, and his shocking features were not something she wanted to hear or see. They reminded her too much of Squall.

"Nash," she breathed quietly, closing her eyes. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"Sorry," the scientist offered, and walked up beside her. He pointedly avoided looking at Rinoa, and she kept her eyes closed; just hearing his voice was almost enough to overwhelm her with emotions. He stared out over the flower field in silence for a moment.

"This field was planted by Edea so long ago," he mused quietly. "I haven't visited it in a long time."

"You know Edea?" Rinoa asked, surprised.

"In a manner of speaking," he explained. "I know _of_ her, and I've been to this orphanage before. Not as an orphan, exactly, but close enough."

Rinoa was silent for several moments, confused at Nash's cryptic statements, and how little she, or anyone, really knew about him.

"Who are you?" she asked, slowly opening her eyes and managing to look on Nash's profile as he stared across the sea of colors before him. "Really? What are you?"

"Someone who shouldn't even be here," he replied, shaking his head. He clenched his fists, and a small wick of flame wreathed his hands as they trembled in anger. "I'm a man who should have died a long time ago. But here I am, almost single-handedly responsible for everything that's happened. I followed a path of blind vengeance, and look at what its cost this world." He shook his head after a second. "That entire project has nearly damned this planet."

Rinoa listened to him speak, and then mulled over his words in the silence that followed. Somewhere beyond the pair, children's laughter could be heard, and the whisper of the wind cut through the orphanage, setting the sea of flowers flowing and undulating.

"You told Squall that you knew details about the Chimera's blood," Rinoa asked, and Nash's fists loosened, and his jaw unclenched. The man let out a deep sigh, his anger transforming into what looked like absolute exhaustion.

"Yes, he was right," Nash stated after a second. "I know more about the Chimera than I'd care to admit."

"Then you know the man who has been fighting Crell's terrorists?" she asked, and Nash nodded again.

"All too well, Rinoa."

"Why is he doing this?" she asked. "Why did he take so long to show himself?"

Nash remained quiet for a while, the wind buffeting his brown hair as he considered her question and the weighty answer he was pondering.

"The Chimera is a mistake. Everything revolving around him is a mistake. And he's here to fix it."

"How?" Rinoa asked. "Are you saying that Squall was a mistake?"

"No," Nash replied, shaking his head. "Squall was far from the Chimera's mistake. The Squall you knew . . . he was the Chimera's greatest achievement. But his death . . . that was the catalyst. Squall's death brought about that man's appearance, and now he's here to rectify a mistake that has existed for far too long."

"And that mistake is?" Rinoa said, staring intently at Nash. He replied her stare.

"His children have been corrupted," Nash explained. "The Elemental Project . . . it was partially built on the same knowledge and developments that were made during the project in Centra that created the Chimera in the first place. Hyne used that information and that project to complete the creation of the Elementals in order to further her goal of destroying existence. He's here to stop her and end his legacy."

"So, he's on our side?" Rinoa mused, and Nash shrugged.

"The Chimera stands on his own side," he explained. "And no one else's. He walks his own path, one which we cannot interfere with."

Rinoa looked back out over the flower field for a long while, considering Nash's words, before asking him one final question.

"How do you know so much about him?"

Nash's words echoed in her ears, and it took several moments for her to truly understand what he said in response.

"Because I _created_ him."

* * *

Zell Dincht managed a shocked roar as sand poured down his head and shoulders, and turned toward the kid who had tossed it at him. He struck a mock fighting pose, and put a ridiculously silly expression of rage on his face as he glared at the laughing orphan and his friends.

"My name is Zell Dincht!" he proclaimed in his best imitation of a bad kung-fu movie dub. "You have thrown sand in my hair! Prepare to die!" letting out an inarticulate ad patently absurd war cry, Zell tore across the beach toward the laughing kids, who scattered in all directions.

Ellone, seated on a marble block further down the beach, watched the brawler's antics with Edea's children with a smile, Irvine standing behind her and observing their play with a grin of his own, though his seemed more tempered. he let out a quiet sigh as he watched Zell enjoy himself, noting with no real surprise that of every SeeD present, he was the only one to be really enjoying himself.

_Of course, if Selphie was here, she'd be right in there with him._

Irvine shook his head. He couldn't be focusing on such thoughts right now; they would get him depressed and moody and dwelling on his mission to locate where Selphie had disappeared to, which he didn't want to do right now. yet, he found it difficult to not focus on thoughts of her - he'd been trying to find her for months now, and here they were, poised and ready to strike at a facility where she could very well be held. To say Irvine was nervous and antsy was an understatement.

"I think he's enjoying himself too much," Ellone remarked, and Irvine was shaken out of his musings. he inwardly cursed at himself; here he was, acting all introverted like Squall had years before.

"Zell's not much older than they are," Irvine replied with a chuckle of his own. "I think he's the only one here who hasn't gotten all sullen and pouty lately."

"Isn't that part of why Quistis brought you guys here?" Ellone replied, looking up at the sharpshooter. "I'm not too much of an expert on military tactics, but there's plenty of better places you guys can stage from while waiting for the storm to hit the target. But she brought everyone here to the orphanage."

Irvine mulled over her words for a moment, and absently watched Zell tackle one of the children, and a dozen more dogpile atop him. Seeing the orphanage, and Matron again, had raised their spirits, but the gravity of the situation they were in had weighed everyone's hearts back down once more. But even so, Quistis had the right idea to bring them to this place.

"After everything that's happened, I don't blame her for trying to boost our spirits," he replied. "Without Squall or Selphie, we've been kind of lost and uncertain. Quistis and Seifer have been doing their best to hold things together, but Rinoa's almost on the verge of breaking down, no matter how well she hides it. And me . . . ." Irvine shook his head. No need to self-pity. Selphie's disappearance had screwed him up, badly.

"We'll see this through," Ellone told him. "We've worked past the worst parts so far. Once you guys complete this mission, you'll be on your way to putting an end to all of this trouble."

Irvine nodded at her words, and looked out over the sea beyond the beach, and past the solitary stone lighthouse, and hoped that Ellone was right.

* * *

Daytime had given way to night, with the sun descending and replaced by the massive, sky-dominating specter of the moon stretching overhead. The SeeD strike team had bedded down, knowing that in the morning they would board their Salamander transport and launch the most important strike of the war in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. The orphanage was quiet, the children asleep and the SeeDs resting, with only one figure stirring.

Edea Kramer walked out onto the beach, the distant roar of the ocean's ebb and flow becoming more intense as she walked across the silvery-white sands. She cast her eyes up toward the moon towering above her head, and pondered the future.

The quiet whisper of breathing behind her alerted the Sorceress to someone's presence, and through her innate magic, she knew instantly who it was.

"He is already there, isn't he?" she asked, and there was a slight rustle of fabric behind her, the barely audible report of a shrug.

"No idea," answered Nash. The scientist managed an ironic chuckle. "Can never predict what he's going to do next."

"Indeed. One such as that man is impossible to understand," she responded. The voice of the sea filled their ears for a short time.

"How long has it been since he died?" Edea asked quietly. "Time passes differently out here with so few means to track the date. When did Squall die?"

"Thirteen months and six days ago," Nash replied quietly. "I could have saved him, but I was so caught up in the battle with Hyne that I wasn't there to protect him from Griever. If I had been there, maybe he wouldn't have fallen and he wouldn't have to resort to dying like that . . . ."

"Did he know what - who - you really are?" she asked, and Nash shrugged.

"Instinctively, I think he did," he explained. "I mean, I knew exactly what he was to me when I saw him, and I think he had the same reaction when he saw me. I'm not certain what Zanshin gives to a person, never having studied it personally, but I think he knew the moment he saw me what I could be." Nash pondered for a moment, and then shrugged again. "I remember when I took down Ultimecia. There was another presence there, something within me, a raging force of hatred that felt so like myself, yet subtly different. I imagine he felt the same thing; we are the same person, after all, just he didn't have to watch Rinoa . . . ." Nash clenched his teeth, and shook his head.

" . . . have to watch Rinoa be corrupted by Hyne," Edea whispered, and Nash quietly nodded. She didn't see the motion, but she didn't have to.

"I saw what was happening to her too late to save her," Nash stated in a subdued voice, his tone tinged by regret. "By the time I knew what had happened, she had corrupted half of Garden and started her war of conquest. I couldn't stop her, but I was able to trap her and force her into one of Esthar's sealing rings . . . though i got trapped with her."

Nash stopped speaking, and hook his head again.

"I don't want to remember this," he muttered. "Squall Leonhart is dead, both in this world and the other." He clenched his teeth, and waves of heat rolled off his hands as they trembled in the night. "And Hyne killed both of them in her own evil ways. I'm going to pay her back."

"Do not get caught up seeking the altar of revenge," Edea cautioned Nash. "That was what blinded you to Squall's plight when he fell."

The heat vanished, and Nash went still and silent for several long moments.

"Yes, you're right," he whispered. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, before finally speaking again, speaking a word that he hadn't uttered in centuries. "You've always been right . . . Matron."

* * *

He stood in the concrete chamber, arms crossed pensively over his chest as the single glowing lightbulb cast its light across the small chamber. The room was featureless, beyond the solid concrete and reinforced walls beyond, the lightbulb, the man in the room, and the creature . . . the _thing_ that was suspended on the wall before him, held off the floor by gravity tethers by its wrists and ankles, body slumped in drug-induced unconsciousness.

Steel-blue, chitinous armor wreathed its body from neck to clawed, booted feet. It didn't look human, but rather like an armored, alien insect encased within a metallic exoskeleton. A slender mask, painted black and red, sat upon the creature's face, but the mask did nothing to hide the brown hair that dropped past where the creature's would be. slender, delicate gauntlets and thin plates of armor encased the creature's body beneath its chitinous outer shell, and two heavy plates had been attached to its forearm, hiding two-foot long claws that could slide out in an instant.

Crell Varines stared at the creature encased within that armor, the monster he had named Requiem, and shivered. This thing was the most dangerous creation he had ever developed, and it was the key to winning this war.

The door behind him creaked open, squealing on rusty hinges, and Crell turned around, looking at the diminutive doctor behind him. Odine cast a quick glance at the creature suspended against the far wall as he entered the chamber.

"The aerosol?" he asked calmly, and Odine nodded.

"It iz ready," he explained. "Ve have only enough for one bomb, but zat should be enough for a mid-zized zity."

"We already have our target picked out," Crell replied, and turned. He walked out of the room, with Odine following behind him, and shut the heavy metal door behind him.

"What's the status on Requiem's memories and cognitive ability?"

"Ze creature iz almozt back to full capacity," Odine explained. "Ze depprezzants ve are injecting it with are keeping it under control for now. But ve need ztronger dozez every day. Odine does not know how much longer we can control it."

"And with the failure of the strike team to capture the prototype . . . " Crell shook his head. "This is bad. If Requiem recovers too much of its memories, we may have to sterilize it."

"Bah!" Odine complained. "All zat verk for nothing?"

"We can refit the armor on another Elemental," Crell explained. "We have a second one on hand that we can use in case the first doesn't work out." He shrugged as they entered the control room for the labs. "In the meantime, I need you to send out an alert to the entire complex. We'll need to relocate."

"Again?" Odine whined, shaking his head and scrunching up his eyebrows. "Bah! You cannot keep zees lab zecret? Odine doezn't know why he keeps verking vith you!"

Crell spun, grabbing the diminutive scientist by the throat and lifting him up into the air with one hand. He glared into the doctor's face, narrowing his eyes as he let clear fury work its way into his features and voice.

"You _work_ for me because you know that Laguna Loire was almost on the verge of shutting you down for war crimes and unethical laboratory procedures. You also _work_ for me because I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime with these Elementals. And finally, you _work_ for _me_ because _I_ can easily enough rip you limb from limb if I decide that your prattling is becoming too annoying." Crell released Odine, letting him fall to the floor. The scientist fell backward, onto his rear, and stared up at the dictator with obvious terror.

"Relocate your people and your equipment," he snarled. "_Now_."

Without waiting for a response, Crell turned around and started walking away. He moved out of the control room and up the length of corridor beyond, and pulled out a communicator. With a flick of a button, he called up the holographic image of Eric Malachi.

"Malachi," he began. "Are you getting this?"

"Yes sir," answered the holographic image, the soldier nodding in response.

"What is the status of your unit?" Crell asked, Malachi paused, and checked with someone outside of view, and nodded again.

"All of our cells in the Dollet area are assembling, sir," he explained. "I've sent our further orders to the rest of our troops to begin moving on the target area."

"Have you received the aerosol?" Crell asked, and Malachi shook his head.

"No, sir. It seems it got misplaced in transit. Its stuck in a train cargo transfer station just outside of Timber. I'm assembling a strike team to personally recover it right now."

"See that you do, Eric," Crell responded. "I've got Odine prepping to relocate the labs in Centra following the security breach at Steele's base." As he was speaking, two soldiers moved up to either side of Crell, flanking him as he moved up the passage, toward the exit to the labs.

"Is SeeD en route?" Malachi asked, and Crell shook his head.

"No, not from what we know, though I suspect that they won't wait long to launch a strike. We haven't gotten any updates from Alucard in a while either."

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Malachi asked, and Crell shrugged.

"Not now, and I never really did. It seems that he may have befriended us just to turn on us later. Such is to be expected." Crell looked away for a moment, toward one of his bodyguards. "Is my Corsair ready?"

"Yes sir," answered the soldier, and Crell nodded again.

"Malachi, I'll be airborne shortly. I expect you to have the aerosol by the time I arrive."

"Consider it done," Malachi replied and the hologram disappeared. Crell put the device away, and saw that, during their conversation, he and his bodyguards had arrived at the front entrance to the laboratory, a pair of heavy magnetically sealed doors cleverly hidden into the side of the mountain the labs were built into.

They neared the doors when sudden alarms sounded throughout the complex behind them. Crell whirled, snatching his plasma pistol from its holster at his side, and looked to his men as they brandished weapons.

"What's happening?" One of the guards pressed a hand to his ear, listening to something, and looked up at Crell.

"Containment breach in the labs," he hissed. "Something's gone wrong down there!" Without any further ado, the two bodyguards grabbed Crell and started pulling him toward the door, putting his safety ahead of anything else. They neared the door, and it started to slide upon, with the flash of tremendous lightning and the slash of rain outside heralding the storm that was striking the facility.

The three men expected to see the pair of door guards hiding within the door's alcove, avoiding the downpour, but instead, perched in the middle of the passageway, was a solitary figure, coat whipping wildly in the wind from the waist down. Above this, the black coat was fastened all the way up to his high collar, and his left hand was holding down the wide-brimmed hat that rested atop his head. His right hand reached up over his shoulder, clenching the handle of the long, slender sword sheathed on his back, as long as he was tall.

Red eyes bored into Crell beneath the hat, and the dictator froze up in terror as he knew what stood before him.

The bodyguards whipped around, raising their rifles at the threat, but then here was _there_, sword flashing out and slicing one man in half before he could blink, and whirling on the second, sword cutting across in a two-handed stroke that bisected the second bodyguard. The man fell away, plasma rifle firing wildly into the ceiling. Crell raised his pistol, and fired a single shot at the man attacking him, but the figure sent his left arm across, the plasma splashing against his forearm harmlessly. The afterglow of the burning light showed a thick, solid gauntlet covering that arm, acting as a shield.

The sword flicked down, and Crell's forearm went cold, like a breeze was flowing through it, and it took him a moment to realize that the pistol hand had been cut cleanly off. Even as he gaped in shock, the Chimera shot forward, the cold metal encasing his fingers wrapping around Crell's throat and lifting him into the air.

Crell Varines stared into those blood red eyes, and into the face of the man beneath the brim of the hat, and his tight breathing became even more ragged as his eyes widened and shock burst through his body.

"You . . . ." he gagged. "Chimera . . . but . . . how . . . .?"

"I'm not here to answer your questions, _murderer_," the Chimera snarled. His eyes narrowed, and in the shining red light from his eyes, Crell caught a glimpse of something resting upon his forehead, silver metal gleaming a bloody chrome in the crimson light, wrapping around his forehead. He drew Crell closer, letting him see into the blazing, hellish pits of his eyes, and spoke the last five words that Crell would ever hear.

"_I'm here to kill you."_

Crell Varines never had a chance to plead. he never even felt any pain. All he knew was that the entire lower half of his body went suddenly dark and cold, and he was laying face up on the floor, staring at the ceiling as his clothes began to feel very wet, and his arms went weak. He tried to breathe, to move, but his body wouldn't respond. he managed to look down, and then realized to his horror that he had been _bisected _across the waist without any warning or sensation, and then the rest of his body went very cold, and he went very still.

The last thing he saw as the darkness claimed him was the Chimera's eyes, the gates of hell punching through the darkness and the demons gleefully welcoming him into their depths.

* * *

-

* * *

OH TEH NOES! The Chimera's attacking!

Yay, I finally got this chapter finished. It was alot of trouble to write, considering it exists primariy as a chapter to slow everything down and get everyone ready...because yes. After this chapter, expect to see nonstop action. And by nonstop I mean almost _nonstop._

Until next chapter . . . .


	35. IV: Requiem

_**Chapter 4: Requiem**_

_The gravity tethers binding it to the wall slackened, and then faded, and it fell to the cold concrete floor. Something passed through its body as it kneeled on the still, icy stone below, and the gauzy haze that enveloped its mind began to fade away, as surely as if the drugs within its blood were being purged with anti-toxins. It looked up, the electronic systems within its armor re-initializing and painting everything in its line of sight with bloody red hues._

_Two figures stood opposite the cell, bathed in the stark white light from the single overhead lightbulb, their outlines shaded red and pink in the crimson display of the armor's mask. One was diminutive, seemingly harmless, but the other was tall, gaunt, swathed in a black cloak and with a scythe balanced across its shoulders._

_There were no questions, no confused demands. All it felt was a surge of unexplainable feelings pumping through its body, the armor it wore supercharging the negative, violent impulses it felt. Hate, fury, rage, disgust, blind, seething enmity toward humanity in general - all shot through it in an instant, untempered by conscious thoughts. The loud, poignant _kschkt_ of the claws on its forearms erupting from their armored sheaths filled the chamber, and it rushed forward, letting out an inarticulate roar of violence and rage, filtered into an inhuman shriek by the mask._

_The small figure, a tiny, harmless girl, waved something in the air, and it hit the floor, the strength fading momentarily from its body. Pushing itself up off the floor, growling in defiance, it started forward again, and the girl gestured once more, waving her fan in a lazy, almost bored fashion. Its knees went weak again, and it took a moment longer to recover its strength before it started to advance once more._

_"Stubborn," mused the man in the cloak, and he chuckled. "You can stop trying to kill us, y'know; not going to work on things like us."_

_It ignored him, roaring again, and once more being dropped to the floor, the strength inexplicably fading from its muscles for a heartbeat._

_"He's right," explained the little girl. "We're not here to fight you."_

_"You think I care?" it snarled in response, its voice garbled by the mask it wore. _

_"You would if we promised you what you want the most," the girl replied, smiling. Her words stopped it in its tracks, and it stared at her through the bloody vision offered by the armor's mask._

_"And that would be?" it asked._

_"What is it that your armor is telling you to do now?" she asked. "It is heightening that hatred and fury you feel, is it not? You instinctive desires to kill and destroy. The natural instincts borne by one who is born of the Chimera's blood."_

_Silence filled the chamber for several long moments._

_"What are you proposing?" it asked, keeping its fury and hatred in check._

_"Total. Complete. Destruction." Hyne giggled. "That's all."_

_" . . . I like the sound of that."_

* * *

Slashing rain stormed down on the small group that advanced through the rocky terrain, descending into the heart of the island. Flashes of lightning and roaring thunder resounded overhead once every ten to fifteen seconds, and they were constantly pummeled by the pouring rain and buffeting winds, which cut in at their water-proof commando ponchos as they trudged ahead. In the chaotic windstorm, the possibility of them being detected by nearly any sensor the enemy had was moot.

Seifer, leading the commando team, peered ahead through the thrashing storm, squinting his eyes, and lifted his night vision goggles. He checked the GPS tracker he carried, and nodded. Pressing a hand to his ear, he shouted into the radio.

"Closing in on our target!" he told them. "ETA five minutes!" There were acknowledgements from the rest of the team, and they pressed forward through the muddy patches and piles boulders and jagged rocks. Everyone tensed up, gripping their weapons more tightly. Irvine checked his Valiant rifle for the thousandth time, Rinoa squeezed the handle on her Revolver with one hand while clutching her sub-machinegun with the other, Quistis gritted her teeth, Zell flexed his fingers, and Serra stilled her breathing as best she could. the only one who didn't react was Nash, who walked forward stoically, the modified Revolver he carried wrapped up in cloth and held in hand.

They were all a bit worried. Even with the driving storm, they still should have encountered some form of sentry or guard or sensor, but nothing had shown itself. As they had drawn closer to the laboratory, the commando team started to collectively tense up, expecting something new around each bend or behind each boulder. But nothing had presented itself, and now they were almost to the doorstep of the facility.

Seifer pressed on through the gloom and swirling rain and striking winds, and as he moved forward, he saw something, recessed into the side of a rocky hill up ahead. It seemed like the entrance to a cave, but too sharp, too squared, and far too metallic.

"Ready weapons!" he ordered, and noted that the entrance was wide open, and for a second, he wondered why the enemy would be stupid enough to expose themselves like that. That was until, however, he saw the pair of bisected corpses in front of he cave entrance, and the bloody walls beyond. They advanced toward the entrance, weapons ready, but soon saw them to be unnecessary. There were no living guards, either at the door or within the corridor, just five bodies that had been ruthlessly sliced apart. Seifer checked the bodies at the entrance, and confirmed that they had been cut, fats and hard, by a slender blade.

"Its him," Irvine muttered, and Seifer nodded as they moved into the entrance, the slashing rain and rocking winds dying down instantly. They moved over the corpses as their ponchos sloughed off water, dripping across the cold concrete. The next pair of bodies were much like the guards who had been at the entrance, but the fifth corpse, just beyond, caused everyone to come to a dead stop.

They knew the man's features all too well, and recognized his shaven head and slender face. They had been hunting this man for over a year, and here he was, sliced cleanly in half, lying in a pool of his own blood.

"Well, that's our job done," Zell commented, crossing his arms as he stared at Crell Varines' lifeless face. "Let's go home and have pie."

"Not yet," Rinoa and Seifer both replied at the same time. They glanced at each other, then at Zell, and then back toward the corridor before them, leading deeper into the lab.

"We'll need to finish checking this place out," Quistis added, and the others nodded.

"This Chimera guy might still be in here," Irvine added, and Nash grunted.

"Then that means we'll find answers," Rinoa muttered, and she moved past Seifer, suddenly taking the lead. Though Seifer had every right to push past her and resume his position as team leader, he opted not to, and no one argued.

They delved deeper into the laboratory, eyes open and alert, and left the corpse of Crell Varines behind.

* * *

The door slid upon, and he calmly walked into the laboratory's control room. His black coat flowed behind him, his hat rested still upon his head, and his right hand clenched the handle of the sword sheathed over his shoulder.

Silence crept across the control room. Red eyes stared unflinchingly across the chamber, and at the slaughtered corpses of the fallen scientists and soldiers, the damaged electronics, and the one other creature standing in the chamber.

"Who are you?" came the quiet, filtered voice of the creature within the Requiem armor. The black-clad man looked up at the creature, and narrowed his eyes.

"You know who I am," he whispered. The room was still for several moments, and the Requiem slowly crouched, the two claws on its arms extending as it slid into a combat stance.

"You're _him_," it stated. "The Chimera."

"You can call me that if you want," he answered, fingers tightening around the sword's handle.

"What are you here for?" Requiem asked, and the Chimera stared directly at the faceless mask it wore.

"I'm here to fix my mistakes," he explained. "You're one of them."

"Me?" the Requiem asked, and let out a quiet laugh, which came out sounding like claws scraping a blackboard.

"You died thirteen months ago," he stated coldly. "You should have stayed dead. Your life as it is now is nothing but a mockery of the person you were in life." He closed his eyes. "You are an abomination, a person who deserved the rightful rest you received. That you are alive now is . . . an insult to your death."

The red eyes opened again, and ferocious determination shone in their depths.

"Rest in peace," he whispered. And with those final words, the Chimera surged forward. The Requiem let out a tremendous howl, a metallic scream of fury, and bolted forward at the Chimera.

Sword whipped out of sheath in an instant, and it slammed into the Requiem's claws with a deafening impact, air whipping away from the collision and sending echoes throughout the lab.

* * *

The team had passes several side chambers, containing laboratories, equipment, and personnel quarters, and had wordlessly broken off to search them. Within, they found nothing but more fallen corpses and destroyed gear, all of it slashed apart by the same slender sword responsible for the initial kills at the entrance. Rinoa had opted to scout out ahead while the rest of the unit started searching one particularly large laboratory section, and was moving down a corridor alone when she heard the resounding impact echo up the hallway.

Raising her sub-machinegun, she quickly signaled the rest of the team with q uick, whispered "Contact" and moved ahead. A sudden powerful feeling of unease worked its way through her as she advanced, and her heart began to beat faster. She had no idea what lay ahead, but whatever it was, it gave her this intangible feeling of uncertainty and fear.

* * *

Clawed boots squealed along the floor as the Requiem was shoved backward, the talons gouging furrows in the concrete. beneath the mask, it sneered and shot ahead, snarling in its inhuman, filtered voice. The Chimera watched its advance calmly, and as it drew closer, the sword on his back flew out, erupting in a sudden strike. The Requiem stopped in mid-stride, left arm shooting up, the claw there blocking the blade, while its right arm lanced ahead, at the Chimera's face. The Chimera brought his left hand across, the armored gauntlet intercepting the thrust. He took a step back, sweeping his sword out wide and disengaging, and then flicked his right arm forward in a quick swipe with the blade.

The Requiem leapt back out of reach and dove ahead again, hissing like an animal, both claws diving for the Chimera's chest. the sword came across once again to parry, knocking both claws aside, but the Requiem simply ducked and spun with the blow, coming around in a wide-flying kick that nearly struck the black-clad warrior before he took a quick step back. Setting its feet, the Requiem sprung forward, snarling in animal fury as it leapt through the air at the retreating Chimera. His sword struck suddenly, and the armored warrior had to twist around to parry the strike, the force of which tossed it backward across the room.

"You're good," the Requiem snarled.

"And you are as I expected," the Chimera replied. "A savage animal, and nothing more."

"Animal?" it muttered. "Me? Heh. Far from it."

"You are nothing but a vessel for all the negative impulses you've ever felt," the Chimera replied. "You are a twisted mockery of who you were. You deserve your rightful rest." The Requiem considered his words for a moment, and then laughed, a harsh, grating sound.

"Nah."

"Then I'll have to do this the hard way," the Chimera muttered, shaking his head. He sheathed his sword and clutched it tightly. The Requiem crouched, baring its claws and tensing to attack. They stared at each other, waiting for the other to move-

-and the entrance burst open, and Rinoa stepped into the room, sweeping it with her sub-machinegun.

Both combatants looked to her for an instant, and the Chimera's red eyes widened as he saw her sudden intrusion. The Requiem's response was more vocal and violent however, as it spied what she wore at her side, and the familiar design.

A howl of fury echoed across the chamber, and it shot past the Chimera, rushing toward her in an instant. Responding with speed that shocked even her, Rinoa dropped her weapon and tore the Revolver from its sheath, raising it before her in an instantaneous guard that intercepted the strikes from both of the armored' figure's claws. She hopped back a step, and her left leg shot across in a brutal high left side kick that crashed into the Requiem's side and launched it into a wall.

The armored creature bounced off, its screeching snarl filling the chamber as it shot toward her again. The Revolver moved instantly into a nother defensive guard, parrying a low swipe of the Requiem's claws and spinning around, blocking a high strike in the blink of an eye. Rinoa stepped forward, ramming her knee up into the Requiem's chest, knocking it back a step, and the gunblade slashed down and across, hard. The edge scratched against the armored plating the Requiem wore and paused it back further, and it sprang away, crouching low to the ground like a stalking predator.

"That weapon," it hissed balefully, the sound amplified by the harsh metallic voice. "Where did you . . . what _is_ that thing?"

"This weapon?" Rinoa murmured, and stared at the creature before her. It took her several long moments as she scanned its body, and then a flash of shocking realization struck her as she suddenly realized what she was staring at. They had the same build, the same height, and the brown hair poking out and dropping around the mask _. . . just like his._

Her mouth opened as she stared at the figure before her, not certain what to say or what to do. Her hands trembled, and the Revolver shook in her hands as she looked on the animalistic beast before her. Her jaw started to work, but no sounds came out of her mouth, except for one, almost silent squeak.

" . . . Squall?"

The Requiem stared at her for several long moments as that word filled the room. The word echoed throughout its ravaged, infuriated mind, repeating over and over again, crashing against the walls of its thoughts and echoing. The chamber was still and silent, no one moving for a long, breathless moment.

Beyond the silent, motionless pair, the Chimera stared, and released his sword, hand dropping to his side. He slowly closed his eyes, and shook his head, almost regretfully.

"Squall . . . " the Requiem grated, turning its head slightly to the side. "Squall . . . _Squall_ . . . ."

The shocking screech of agony and hatred that erupted from the creature an instant later caused Rinoa to flinch. She stared in horror as it clutched its head, shaking and howling, brown hair flying about wildly. It turned around, claws slashing into the concrete wall behind it, and then spun toward Rinoa.

"That _name!_" it snarled and screamed at the same time. "_That name!_ What is it? Mine? Some . . . someone else's? _What is it?"_

Then, without any warning, the Requiem shot forward, toward Rinoa. The Chimera stepped ahead, gripping his sword and prepared to strike, but it flew past her, rushing down the hallway beyond. Rinoa whirled to pursue, but watched it bound down the passage. She heard surprised shouts over the radio, and then confused cries, wondering what the hell had just passed them.

Rinoa stared at the door the Requiem - _Squall_ - had just fled through, jaws open in shock, looking blankly down the passage before her, and couldn't find any words to say.

* * *

Several long moments passed as she stared at that doorway, still coming to grips with what she had just seen. As Rinoa continued to grapple with the confused jumble that was her thoughts, the Chimera strode across the room. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised his right hand and set it on her shoulder. Rinoa flinched from his touch, surprised by the sudden contact.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he whispered quietly, almost comfortingly. She slowly looked toward him, confused and shocked, trying to say something, and met his eyes. Despite the furious red glow, they seemed to radiate a sense of comfort, as if he was trying to help her. Her eyes flicked over his face, or what she could see, and just as she had with Nash, Rinoa was shocked by their similarities. He had the same slender jawline, and his hair and beard seemed so much like Squall's . . . like the creature that had just fled before her.

"Who . . . who was that?" she asked, almost pleading, and the Chimera closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Someone who should be dead," he explained, and she was struck by his voice, just like Nash's. Everyone in the Chimera's family was so similar . . . it was chilling, like looking at a distorted mirror of him, or a garbled recording of his voice.

He said nothing else, instead walking across the room to one of the intact computer terminals and entering commands. The computer screen shifted with light, but she didn't pay any attention, running the encounter through her mind, and trying to come to grips with what she had just encountered.

Squall was alive. He had to be. That thing, in the armor . . . it had to be him. But-

"How did they . . .?" she whispered, shaking her head. He had drowned to death in Balamb Garden's remains as it sank into the ocean.

"The armor that Nash developed acts as a life support mechanism," the Chimera spoke absently as his fingers clicked against the keys. "Requiem. It is fully capable of restoring even a dead Elemental to life. They recovered the corpse from the remains of Balamb Garden after it sank and attached it to that armor, using technology to breathe life into a dead corpse." He turned his eyes toward Rinoa, who stared at him, shock and revulsion creeping into her features.

"He was dead," she whispered. "But they . . . ."

"Artificially restored life to a body that had been dead for weeks," the Chimera finished her sentence. "Forcibly bringing what had already passed back into the realm of the living. The . . . the _thing_ that you fought is nothing but a shell of broken memories restored to a broken corpse whose rightful rest has been violated for no reason except to further wage a pointless war."

Rinoa was silent after he spoke, and the only sound in the chamber was the clicking of keys and the faint thrum of working machinery. She ran the encounter over and over in her head, and very time, she understood the creature's actions more and more. The reaction to her, to her gunblade, and to its name . . . .

The sound of boots outside snapped her out of her thoughts, and Rinoa looked up at the doorway, to see her comrades rush into the control room, weapons at the ready. A quick, instant sweep showed the chamber clear, and Seifer, in the lead, stepped forward, until he noted the Chimera. The black-clad figure didn't move, and acted as if he had never heard them enter.

"Rinoa, are you okay?" Seifer asked, and she nodded, finally remembering to pick up her dropped weapon. Sheathing the gunblade, she hefted the sub-machinegun.

"Good to go," she answered. She looked over the rest of the group. "Did any of you encounter S . . . that thing as it escaped?"

"Yes," Quistis replied, nodding. "Myself and Nash encountered it in the corridors outside. What was it?"

"It was . . ." Rinoa closed her eyes, and managed the next sentence after a few moments, but only very quietly. "That thing is what was left of Squall."

Silence and stares greeted her words, and after a moment, the quiet was finally broken.

"_The fuck?_" Zell muttered, and Rinoa nodded, opening her eyes.

"Rinoa, what are you-" Seifer began, but she shook her head.

"I'm certain," she explained. "They took his body after he died, they used that armor to revive him, and then-"

Nash let out a profound curse and suddenly punched the concrete wall beside him, cracking the stone with the impact.

"The Requiem?" he hissed. "They used that . . . on the corpse?" Rinoa nodded. "Oh, _motherfucking pink moombas!"_ Everyone glanced at him, surprised by the rather colorful swear, and looked back to her.

"You're certain?" Quistis asked, and Rinoa nodded.

"Very. The way he reacted to my gunblade, and me, and his name; it has to be him."

"No." Everyone turned to look tot he Chimera as they heard his words. He continued hammering away at the keyboard, not looking up at them, even as he spoke.

"That creature is not what you think it is," he explained. "It is nothing but a broken shell of broken memories. It shouldn't even be alive. To call it such is to dishonor the memory of the person it was."

Silence greeted his words for several moments, and finally, Seifer broke the silence.

"Then what do we do with him?" he asked, and the Chimera shrugged.

"That thing deserves the dignity of death," he stated. "And I will put it down."

"Put it down?" Quistis echoed. "You're talking about Squall . . . as if he was an animal."

"The Requiem is not an animal," Nash stated, and Quistis glanced at him as he shook his head. "That armor was never intended to restore life to a dead person, but it has been used as such."

"A perversion of the natural order," the Chimera added. "It cannot be allowed to exist." he paused, and looked back to the group before him. "Not to mention that the armor itself would drive its wearer insane. You noticed that, didn't you, Rinoa? The armor has driven that creature into flagrant psychosis, due to the trauma of being revived, and the fact that the armor perverts the emotions of its wearer, heightening negative emotions."

"As it is," Nash finished, "The Requiem is nothing but a corpse artificially revived and driven insane by the process and the very suit it wears."

Silence once again hung across the laboratory, and the SeeDs looked to one another, uncertain. All, that was, except Rinoa, who clenched her fists tightly.

"Is there no way to save him?" she asked, but from her tone, she already knew the answer.

"The armor sustains its wearer's life functions," Nash explained. "If it is destroyed or removed, the Requiem dies."

"Then we have to kill him," she whispered, and closed her eyes. The others stared at her for several moments, surprised by her words, and the resolve in her voice. "Squall wouldn't want to live like that, and if he were here, he'd tell us to do the same."

"Yes," the Chimera stated, in a barely audible whisper. "Yes, he would." He looked over the screen before him, and nodded. His tone changed, as did the direction of the conversation as he spoke. "There. I found it."

"What?" Quistis asked, walking toward him. He took a step back and turned the monitor so that everyone could see. A blueprint appeared on the screen, showing the plans for what looked like some sort of explosive device.

"That looks like some kind of aerosol bomb," Zell commented, and the Chimera nodded.

"Not just any aerosol bomb," he explained. "A specific type of bomb. The contents of this bomb appear to be a new form of the same chemicals utilized to produce the regular Elemental soldiers that made up part of Crell's army."

"Meaning . . .?" Zell asked.

"Meaning Crell could release this into the air and transform a large populace into Elementals," Seifer breathed, realizing the implications. "He could turn an entire city into Elemental soldiers."

"What?" Rinoa said, a confused look on her face. She shook her head. "I don't get it. Why? What good would turning an entire city into Elementals do him? The only people who follow Crell are his own soldiers; turning a city into Elementals wouldn't do him any good if they were disloyal to him."

"Not if he could control them," Irvine hissed, speaking for the first time since entering the room. The others looked to him, and then to Nash as the scientist swore. Irvine and Nash glanced at each other, and both of them understood the sudden, shocking implications.

"What?" Zell asked. "Something we missed here?"

"The Requiem," Irvine muttered, remembering the conversation he'd had with Nash over a year ago in Iceblood Prison. Nash nodded.

"That armor allows the wearer to exert mental control over Elementals," Nash whispered. he reached up and touched his bandana. "Unprotected Elementals - except Serra, who the armor was based on - can be mentally dominated and enslaved to the will of the one who wears that armor."

The pieces fell into place for Irvine in an instant.

"That's what happened to Selphie!" he exclaimed. "They used that thing - Squall - to . . . to take over her mind . . . ." As he spoke, Irvine looked around the control room. "She has to be here, or had to have been. I'm going to go find her!" Without another word, Irvine moved toward another door and ran out of the room.

"I believe that this was what happened," the Chimera commented. "And if they could control a pure Elemental like her . . . then they can control regular Elementals as well. An aerosol bomb that could convert a major city into hundreds of thousands of Elementals would give Crell an invincible army that his armor could control."

"But Crell's dead," Seifer said. "You killed him, right?"

"Yes, but I fear that may not matter now," he replied. "If the Requiem is on the loose, then that means that it can control Elementals just as effectively. And in such a volatile mental state, there's no telling what kind of destruction can be unleashed, especially if what's left of Crell's agents release that gas in a populated area." He looked to the others.

"We have to stop it; we have to destroy the Requiem."

* * *

The next room was another laboratory, and was as trashed as the control room, with overturned tables, broken equipment, and bloodstains from a half-dozen stabbed and slashed corpses. Clearly, the Requiem had cut through this chamber just as brutally and efficiently as the Chimera had ripped through the other end of the complex. Irvine swept the room with his rifle, and then lowered his weapon. He moved across the chamber, stepping over broken glass and strewn papers, and opened the door to the next room, which showed an office that was relatively undamaged. Suspecting that there was something to be learned in here, Irvine cross the office and stepped around the desk.

Movement from behind the desk caused him to raise his weapon again, and he caught sight of another form behind the furniture, a familiar, midget-like figure. The SeeD bolted forward, leaping over the desk and planting a solid kick to the man's face, knocking him over onto his back, and leveled his rifle at the man's face.

"What's up, Doc?" Irvine spat, staring down at Hans Odine. "Where the _fuck _is Selphie, asshole?"

* * *

"What released that thing?" Serra asked in the silence that followed the Chimera's declaration, and he shrugged in response.

"I haven't checked the camera records," he replied. He turned back toward the terminal and started hitting keys. "I'll check."

"My money is on you know who," Seifer muttered, and Nash grunted.

"Hyne has a hand in everything, it seems," he explained. "Something like this sounds right up her alley."

"Something to keep us busy?" Quistis added, scratching her chin. "Releasing Squall in such a state to wreak havoc through that armor and keep us occupied while finishing her plans?"

"From what we know of her," Seifer added, "That sounds logical."

"Got something," the Chimera said suddenly, and the others looked toward the monitor, to see a feed from the next laboratory over, and they watched as the door into the room flew open, and a familiar armored figure burst in, claws flashing as it leapt upon the scientists and technicians in the room. As they watched, it systematically slaughtered them, save for Hans Odine, who fled toward an office doorway.

* * *

"Odine knows nothing!" the Doctor protested, and Irvine responded by stomping hard on his stomach, inciting a squeal of pain from the mad scientist.

'You probably know more than you realize," Irvine replied. "I have good intel that says Selphie is, or was, here, so start talking." He pumped the action on his rifle. "Or I'll let Mr. Ten-Gauge here starts blasting off chunks of your worthless carcass."

"Okay! Okay! Maybe Odine knows somezing! Like zat ze girl was brought here ven ve tezted ze limits of ze armor's mind control power!"

"Really," irvine muttered. "What esle?"

"Ze armor . . . it can control any unprotected Elemental," Odine added. "Any, except ze Prototype. But Nash haz machinez that prevent ze control."

"I know that already," Irvine replied, and calmly pumped his rifle's action and leveled it at Odine's head. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Ah . . . um . . . okay!" Odine managed. "How about . . . umm . . . oh! I know! Odine knows something you really don't know!"

"That being?" Irvine asked.

The door to the office burst open an instant later, Irvine flying out of the office and slamming hard into the wall of the lab beyond, air bursting out of his lungs as he heard Odine's wild laughter.

"Zat!" he shouted. Irvine fell to the floor, and as he lay there, a glass syringe rolled past, emblazoned with the word "Pandemonea".

* * *

On the recording, Odine barely reached the office door when the Requiem leapt across the room and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around and lifting him up into the air by the throat.

_"Odine,"_ it muttered, and chuckled, the grating laughter cutting into the video's viewers even through the tiny speakers on the monitor. The scientist struggled, yelping and whining pitifully in fear.

_"You've always wanted to study Elementals first-hand, haven't you?"_ the Requiem asked. It glanced around, and strode toward a table, and scooped up a glowing vial tipped with a syringe, containing the same fluid that had been injected into Squall and Selphie so long ago.

_"Here. Have a taste of it for yourself, then!" _it shouted and stabbed the vial's needle into Odine's stomach. The scientist let out an agonized cry of pure suffered, and the Requiem burst out laughing, and callously hurled the scientist through the doorway into the office, before turning and walking out of the camera's line of sight.

An instant later, the shocked viewers heard the resounding impact against the wall of the next room over, and they put the pieces together within a split-second.

The door into the next lab flew open as Zell, in typically selfless and straightforward fashion, dove through headfirst, and ran straight into a whirlwind of . . . well, wind. he was slammed with hurricane force gales of raw, swirling air that launched him all the way across the room to crack another concrete wall.

Serra rushed into the room through the doorway, and instantly, Phoenix manifested itself before her, warding away the striking winds within the chamber and allowing Rinoa, Seifer, Nash, and Quistis to pile in directly behind her. Finally, bringing up the rear, came the Chimera, one hand atop his hat to hold it in place and the other grasping his sheathed blade in a white-knuckle grip.

In the center of the lab, a whirlwind of white are and suit and broken glass swirling around him, hovered Hans Odine, his normally squinting and scrunched up face replaced with a wide eyed look of madness, and insane smile stretching across the scientist's face.

"The hell?" Seifer hissed as the cyclone around Odine picked up in power and speed, filling the lab with a swirling roar. Rinoa leveled her rifle at Odine as Irvine shakily stood up, and Seifer cut around beside her. Nash's fires burst into existence around him, and he leveled a hand at the scientist. A gout of flame lanced out toward the insane scientist, but the winds simply increased in intensity, and the raging fires were scattered by the wall of air. Odine's response came as he channeled the heated air and sent it in a countering strike directly at Seifer as he rushed forward. The Commander stopped in mid-stride and reflexively shifted his junctions in a defense formation, bolstering his defenses against heat, just in time to take the storm of superheated air head on. His waterproof poncho ignited on contact, and he was tossed backward.

Quistis' whip flew into the maelstrom as Rinoa opened fire with her sub-machinegun. The cyclone raging around Odine, however, grew in intensity as he detected the attacks, and Quistis' bladed whip was sent spiraling out wide, forcing Serra to duck or have the chain strike her. The same winds that deflected the blade of the whip sent Rinoa's bullets spiraling wildly out of control, striking walls and ricocheting about uncontrollably.

Irvine experienced the same problem as he fired a buckshot shell from his rifle, the iron pellets swirling about and cast across the room. Zell, standing up, winced as one of the pellets struck him in the upper left thigh, and let out a battle roar. Simultaneously, Nash sent a jet of flame out behind him and hurled himself at Odine, fists wreathed in white-hot fires. Zell charged in on foot, and came at Odine from a different angle as Quistis recovered her whip and considered an alternate angle of approach to the insane Elemental.

Nash's fists drew close to Odine, and then he hit the cyclonic wall surrounding the scientist, and was whipped backward, blood flying from his arms and chest as the pieces of glass and broken stone caught up in the windstorms slashed viciously at his body, and was flung back, his flames snuffed out by the brutal winds. Zell was even worse off, caught up inside the blasting air and hurled up toward the ceiling. Odine made a gesture even as Zell crashed into the ceiling, and a lab table was lifted up and sent slamming into his stomach, edge first, and Zell grunted in pain as Odine redirected the winds. The brawler was launched back across the room and crashed into a glass display case, blood erupting from his back as hundreds of razor sharp edges bit into him.

Irvine quickly modified his rifle, and loaded a new shell into it, one of the few pulse shells he still possessed. he raised the rifle, bracing it against his shoulder securely, and prepared to fire, when Odine noted the motion and moved to quash Irvine's actions with a single exertion of his control of wind. A wall of air crashed into the sharpshooter, slamming him once again against a wall, and a handful of broken vials were scooped up in the storm and sent his way. The sharpshooter rolled aside as he spotted the slivers of glass flying his way, and managed to evade most of the attack, except for one vial that lodged into his shoulder.

Then Odine had to shift his attention forward as the black-clad specter of the Chimera charged in head-first, one hand securing his hat in place while the other clenched his sheathed blade. Beside him came Rinoa, recognizing her sub-,machinegun wouldn't do any good against Odine's defensive wall. A wave of potent winds crashed over them, and Rinoa was pitched backward, hurled off her feet, but Serra managed to intervene and catch her before she slammed into a wall, cushioning her body.

The Chimera, however, was a different story. He bulled straight through the raging winds and bore in at Odine, and the scientist redoubled his efforts as his opponent came on. The Chimera's steps faltered as all of Odine's winds were sent flying ahead, and he found his feet not touching the floor as solidly as he needed, and was shoved backward.

But in that moment, Seifer Almasy reentered the battle, surging ahead, his poncho still aflame and paying the biting fires no mind, letting out a fearsome challenge as he rushed at the mad Elemental. Saber and Hyperion were drawn as he barreled in, body wreathed in fire, and Odine broke away from the Chimera for an instant to hurl him aside with a blaze of wind that tossed the SeeD away. A second sudden surge of wind tossed the Chimera back further, and he set his feet against the smooth concrete floor and released his sword hand, moving it toward his face. His fingers touched something beneath the shroud of his hat, and the glow from his eyes vanished as something was drawn down over them.

Odine's concentration was shattered an instant later as Zell Dincht charged in, sucker-punching Odine in the jaw as he focused on the Chimera, glass poking out his back and blood dripping on the floor. Odine recoiled, eyes widening in shock, and a reflexive burst of wind force Zell back a half-step before the doctor was able to send a single titanic surge that sent the brawler hurtling end-over-end toward the far wall. Zell managed to flip around as he flew, and hit the wall with his feet, managing to avoid the worst of the impact.

Odine turned toward the Chimera to see him coming on again, but this time, he did not see the fiery pits of his eyes. Instead, he saw a faceless black force rippling toward him, and threw up another powerful surge of wind before him, to drive the Chimera backward.

But then there was a flicker, and the winds diverted _around_ the Chimera, and he shot into the gap, sword out and in his right hand. he raised it, and gripped the blade with both hands, and cleaved down.

Odine blinked as the Chimera stepped past him, and then understood. Somehow, the black-clad man, despite all known laws of physics and magic, had utilized an iaijustu strike to somehow _slice_ through the air and reach him.

"How . . . ." the doctor gasped, not understanding.

"Zanshin," the Chimera answered, and he reached into the darkness beneath his hat, and drew the Elemental Control Restraint bandana, the device that protected him from mental domination, up off his eyes.

Odine blinked again, and then slid apart, bisected from left shoulder to right hip, and struck the floor with two wet, meaty impacts.


	36. V: Motivation

**A/N:** Chris Ganale inspired this, so blame him. I've decided to include a bit of a "soundtrack" with this story, so expect to see me include suggested tracks at the beginning of the chapter. There's an extended track listing in my profile that I'll update with each chapter.There isn't much I can suggest for this chapter's events, but I'll reccommend "Unyielding" by Mothergoat forthe final sequence at the end between Rinoa and the Chimera.

* * *

_**Chapter 5: Motivation**_

_"Excuse me, Doctor?"_

_Kadowaki looked up at the man standing in the doorway to her office, and smiled._

_"Hello, general," she said, standing up. "What can I do for you?"_

_"I need access to your medical records," Randolph replied, stepping into the office. Kadowaki blinked, surprised._

_"What kind of records?" She didn't have a good reason to restrict access to such records from him; the Commander had cleared Randolph to have access to most of Garden's classified data. _

_"DNA records," Randolph explained. "You should have a detailed record of the DNA patterns of all cadets and students, correct?" Kadowaki nodded._

_"What is this for, exactly?" she asked._

_"I'm doing some . . . research. There's a possibility that some of the orphans that Garden has taken in may be descendants of Dollet soldiers killed in action. I'm wanting to compare our DNA records with Garden's and see if I can find some matches."_

_"Of course," Kadowaki replied. She glanced at her watch and frowned. "I've got some rounds to do; you can use my terminal if you want."_

_"Thank you, Doctor."_

* * *

"You're sure?" 

"Yes, Zell, I am." Kadowaki's voice was filled with clear impatience.

"No, you're absolutely sure?" Zell asked.

"Yes."

"Positively."

"Without a doubt."

"Because I don't want this thing to get infected, and you don't know what kind of bacteria was loose in that lab and got all over the glass."

"Zell, you're fine. Now get out of here and go natter at someone else, hm?"

Zell managed a huff and crossed his arms, and then winced as he stretched the cuts stretching across his bare back. The SeeD pulled on his short-sleeved jacket and hopped off the examination table.

"Thanks, Doc," he said with a smile, and walked out of Kadowaki's examination room. The doctor sighed and shook her head, and hit a couple of keys on the wall-mounted terminal.

"And that should be everyone except Rinoa . . . ." she said to herself. She looked over some of Zell's medical data, and heard footsteps enter the examination room. Glancing up, she smiled and nodded to Rinoa.

"Come in," she said. "Sit down. I just got finished with Zell."

"How is he doing?" Rinoa asked, and Kadowaki shrugged.

"As well as he can expect after diving headfirst into combat, as he always does. I'm not sure how he keeps coming out of combat like that so unscathed, though this time he was lucky. His junctions protected him from most of the damage, and nothing important was punctured or cut open. Just a lot of broken glass."

"Nothing unusual happening with his blood or anything?" Rinoa asked, and Kadowaki shook her head.

"If you're worried he got infected with any of that residual Guardian Force essence, you can rest easy," she assured Rinoa. "Zell got plate glass from a display case lodged in his back and a couple of shotgun pellets in the leg, but was otherwise fine. Same for Irvine. That glass vial that stabbed into his shoulder didn't do any real damage and didn't have any GF essence in it either. No one's in danger of becoming an Elemental."

"That's a relief," Rinoa said, sighing. Kadowaki smiled and nodded.

"Now, judging from the report, you got out of that mess relatively uninjured," Kadowaki explained. "But, medical procedure demands that I evaluate you. But, since you're uninjured, or look that way, I'm going to ignore that and move onto the psych evaluation. How are you feeling?"

Rinoa didn't respond for a few moments, and finally managed a tired chuckle.

"I feel like hell," she admitted. "Exhausted, weary, and shocked, I guess. I wasn't expecting to find . . . Well, what I saw in there has been classified by Quistis and Seifer, so, I can't say."

"Really, now?" Kadowaki answered. "I can't give you a decent evaluation unless I know what it was you encountered in there. Well, aside from fairly vague psychological mumbo-jumbo that you'd get from any self-important psychiatrist."

"Sorry, Doctor," Rinoa managed a weak smile. "Its classified."

"I can call up Quistis right now and get it unclassified if I want," Kadowaki replied. "So, let's go around the whole bother and justtell me." Rinoa hesitated, and managed a long, profound, and exhausted sigh.

She told her. The encounter with the Requiem and the Chimera, the discovery of who it was in the armor, and the subsequent psychotic response he had had to her use of his name, and then, almost as an afterthought, the fight with Hans Odine, before calling for SeeD support troops and evac.

Aki Kadowaki had encountered a lot of insane medical situations in her lifetime, and had even saved several people who had been beyond any other doctor's reach. She'd seen a man lie dead on the table for two minutes before his body had been revived. But what Rinoa told her was beyond anything she could have imagined. Reviving a corpse that had been dead that long would have been a medical miracle, but the fact that the armor did little more than turn the dead person into a rampant, insane killing machine that could control countless Elementals in a bid for worldwide power was . . . It revolted Kadowaki that a body would be defiled like that. And, of all people, it was _Squall_ who it was being used on. Kadowaki had no idea what to say as Rinoa finished the story.

"So," Rinoa said quietly, her entire body slackened, as if reciting the story had exhausted her even more than the battle with Odine. "What's the evaluation?"

It took Kadowaki a minute to sort through everything she had just heard and consider its effects on Rinoa. And even then, after her learned medical evaluation, she honestly only had one thing _to_ say.

"I'm not sure what to say," she answered. "I haven't dealt with a psychological situation quite like this one before. To have someone you felt so strongly for returned to you as something like this . . . ."

"I know," Rinoa said, shaking her head. "I just . . . I feel really tired right now. I need to think about this." She moved forward, off the examination table, and Kadowaki noted something in her voice and motions, and understood instantly. She hadn't encountered anyone who had experienced quite so extreme an encounter and walk away so unfazed by it, but she _had_ seen people consumed by that deadly mixture of burning vengeance and solemn responsibility.

Kadowaki reached forward and grabbed Rinoa's shoulder, stopping her.

"Rinoa," she said quietly. "Before you go, I have to ask you something."

"What?" Rinoa turned her eyes back toward Kadowaki.

"You're thinking he's your responsibility, right?" Kadowaki asked, and Rinoa closed her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered. "I have to find him . . . And I have to kill him."

"Why?" Kadowaki's words struck Rinoa, and she opened them, staring at the doctor. The answers to her question were obvious, painfully so, but for all her efforts, Rinoa couldn't vocalize them. She simply stared at Kadowaki, unable to speak.

"Because I have to," she finally answered, firming her jaw. "Because that thing in that armor _was Squall_. That's _all_ the reason I need."

* * *

Quistis sighed, and took a sip from her coffee, closing her eyes. They hurt from staring at the computer screen so much, but she'd been forced to endure the mild aches over the last few hours, considering the import of what was happening. 

As of that moment, hundreds of CITU agents were scouring every possible cell location, safehouse, and hidden cache that Crell's insurgent army had been using, searching for the location of what the documents recovered from the lab had identified as the "Elemental Aerosol Device" or EAD. Locating the thing was paramount; if the Requiem was on the loose, and Crell's insurgents utilized it, then the insane machine would have an army of hundreds of thousands of mindless Elemental slaves at its control, every one exactly like Odine, only much weaker, but still a match for SeeDs.

Quistis did her best to classify the Requiem as just that: a machine. A failed experiment that got loose. A weapon that had turned on its users and was threatening humanity.

Anything but the cold, painful truth: it was Squall.

Quistis opened her eyes, shook her head, and stared at the computer screen before her, sitting on her desk. She had reviewed the footage archives recovered from the labs around the time of the attack and the Requiem's escape, and what she had found startled her, and confirmed Seifer and Nash's theory as to how the Requiem escaped. Just before they had entered the facility, two figured had appeared in the hallway outside the Requiem's cell: a small girl and a tall man clad in black, a scythe balanced across his shoulders.

If Hades and Hyne were responsible for the Requiem's release . . . Then its presence was all part of their greater plan. Their ultimate goal was ripping apart the barriers separating them from Carpasia, the city of dreams, and using its power to unmake all of existence. But the question was, did Hyne and Hades release the Requiem as a distraction, or was it on the loose and working alongside them to further their goals? If it was the former, then stopping it was important, but they couldn't forget the real enemy they were facing. If it was the latter, then they would have to kill it as soon as possible to stop Hyne.

But the idea of killing Squall - _again_ - to prevent him from actually helping Hyne almost made her sick thinking about it.

It didn't help that, while the ShadowNet was being unraveled and terrorist bases were being singled out, that Crell's forces were disappearing. Many of the bases and safehouses that had been located were either striped bare or filled with corpses, those of Crell's own troops, slaughtered by unknown forces. They weren't killed by the Chimera; it was like someone else was killing them off. Evidence - frightening evidence - was indicating that the killers were actually their own comrades. Corroborating evidence showed that many of Crell's cells had been augmented by minor Elemental soldiers, which would be dominated by the Requiem. If Crell's own soldiers were being used to massacre their human allies by that armor, then that meant that the Requiem was wasting no time taking out those who could pose a threat or provide information. That implied a deliberate campaign, not haphazard massacres, which meant the Requiem had a plan.

_None of this is looking good_, she thought, shaking her head to clear it.

Something shifted in the room, and Quistis looked up, her eyes narrowing as she sensed something else. The acute physical and mental powers she had gained over a year back had been steadily growing stronger, and now she could almost sense life forces and the thrumming of energy and magic around her. That made the new presence in her office unmistakable.

"Hope you're not just dropping by to play one of your cryptic games again," she remarked, and Alucard chuckled, harmless smoke playing from his pipe as he leaned casually against a display case.

"My information helped last time, didn't it?" he replied, and she looked up, glaring at him with sufficient intensity to wipe the smug smirk of the Guardian's face.

"You could have just as easily given us the location of the lab yourself," she muttered. "And you could have given us an idea of what we were up against." She pushed herself up off the desk, still staring at him. "You could have told us they took his body from Garden and _twisted_ it into a war machine!"

Alucard stared at her for a moment, and then took his pipe out of his mouth. As she watched, he flicked it casually, almost dismissively, and then looked to her again.

"Ramuh is dead," he stated bluntly. Quistis blinked for a moment, uncertain of what he meant, and then the import of his words crashed over her like a tidal wave.

"The Guardian of Storms?" she whispered, all of her anger draining away. Alucard nodded.

"Hyne has killed him," he explained. "The only good news is that its not permanent; we Guardians are physical manifestations of natural forces. You can no more destroy us than you could destroy those very fundamentals of the universe. But by "killing" us you can remove our active presence for millennia or more."

"And Hyne is taking them out now," Quistis whispered, remembering Edea's words. She had felt disturbances . . . .

"Destroying them now while she has full power, so they will not be able to bring their power to bear on her in the near future," Alucard replied. "Or . . . Even more likely, she is eliminating competition."

"Competition for Carpasia," Quistis added, and Alucard nodded again.

"She is getting ready for the endgame," he explained. "We must be ready. Do not get caught up chasing down petty enemies, or involving yourself in unnecessary emotional obligations. Existence itself is at stake here, and we must all be prepared to stop Hyne if and when she makes her move."

Quistis was silent for a moment, and she read the import in his words.

"You mean, kill Serra if Hyne makes her move."

Alucard did not answer, but simply stared at her long and hard, before vanishing into nothingness.

Silence filled the office in the wake of Alucard's departure, and Quistis sat down behind her desk, exhaustion creeping over her. She settled back in her chair, and glanced at her phone, to see a flashing red light on it, indicating someone was trying to call her. She blinked, wondering with some embarrassment as to how long it had been flashing. Quistis hit the glowing light, and activated the speaker phone.

"Headmaster?" came a voice, from one of the technicians in the information analysis department.

"Yes?" she answered. "You have something for me?"

"Yes ma'am," replied the technician. "We've managed to partially tap into Varines' ShadowNet, using some of the intel we got off the ruined lab complex. We've intercepted several transmissions indicating that Crell's forces were moving to recover a high-value weapon at one of the trainyards at Timber."

_The aerosol bomb?_

"Timeframe?" she asked, and the technician paused.

"From what we can tell, within the next few hours they're moving to recover it."

"We have to beat them to it," Quistis whispered. "Thank you. Good work." She cut the line and immediately picked up the phone itself from its cradle, and started organizing a strike team.

* * *

"You tell me to be careful, and here you are, running headlong at that lunatic like you're trying to kill him with your forehead," Serra muttered. Seifer sat back in his chair in the Galbadia Garden cafeteria, crossed his arms, and gave her an indignant snort. 

"I didn't get killed, did I?" he responded. Serra mimicked his snort and arms-crossed-leaning-back pose.

"But you did run headfirst into a wave of superheated air and got your clothes set on fire," she responded. "I don't think even Zell is that crazy."

"Oh, you don't know Zell," Seifer replied, shaking his head. "He would run headfirst into a wall of flaming ninjas. With spikes. And motorcycles, which are also on fire. And dinosaurs. Wielding cans of-"

With a quiet _splut_ sound, Serra's sandwich, and the pungent mix of ketchup, mayo, and mustard it contained, stuck to Seifer's face, effectively silencing him. He sat there for a second as the sandwich and sauces slid down his face, before reaching up and grabbing it.

"Oh, you didn't." Serra, a completely serious expression on her face, which masked the smile underneath, calmly scooped up a spoonful of the sludgy mashed potatoes Galbadia Garden loved to serve, and held it threateningly at him.

"You wouldn't dare."

She did.

Seifer used up half a container of napkins wiping the disgusting mixture off his face, all the while enduring Serra's giggling laughter.

"Of course you know," he growled. "This means war."

Her tray was up in an instant, blocking the hot dog Seifer launched her way, and she kicked back away from the table and turned to run, the CITU commander grabbing a plastic container of pudding and ripping it open, with a roar of "Get back here!" that would cow many a brave soldier. Ripping it open, Seifer let fly at Serra as she ducked behind someone else in the cafeteria. The pudding splashed over the man's uniform, and he looked down, his expression shifting to a dour pout as he looked back up at him.

"Oops," Seifer muttered as general Randolph stared at his uniform, and then sighed.

"It needed cleaning anyway," he remarked as he looked at the white staining his olive battle dress uniform. Without another word, the General went for a box of napkins on one of the tables, and Seifer glared at Serra.

"Using a human shield. How dishonorable." Serra snorted.

"I didn't need him, with your bad aim," she answered, Seifer was taken aback, but had no food nearby with which to retaliate.

"You started it," he managed to say, and walked back toward their table. Serra followed, and as they sat down General Randolph, uniform partially cleaned, walked over to their table.

"May I sit?" he asked, and both occupants of the table nodded. The General pulled up a chair and sat down, and then looked over their trays, and saw that most of the food they had been eating had been transformed into ammunition.

"Sorry about the mess," Seifer apologized, but Randolph raised a hand, and shook his head.

"Its fine," he replied. Randolph was silent for a second, and settled back into his chair. "Seifer, you know I'm not a subtle person."

"Yeah," Seifer replied. "Direct and straightforward, kinda the way I do things."

"Exactly," Randolph replied. "So. Seifer, I'm your grandfather."

The General might as well have stood up, grabbed his chair by the legs, and swung it down on Seifer's head hard enough to break it in half, considering his shocked expression. After a few moments he managed to blubber out something incomprehensible, but the questions he was trying to articulate were fairly clear.

"I told you that story about the Dollet soldier who went to war and never came back to see his son," Randolph explained. "I said the man was my subordinate, and I was correct; he was my son, Trayus Almasy. That was your father."

Seifer stared at Randolph, and in the intervening silence, he continued.

"It is customary for Dollet soldiers to use only their first names following their ranks, as a sign of humility and loyalty to their commanders. My last name is Almasy, and you were given his surname by your mother when you were born. Trayus was killed in action four years ago . . . Ironically, he died during the war between Galbadia and Garden, at Centra, where you were the commander of the Galbadian forces."

"Why didn't he . . . ." Seifer managed to say, and Randolph shrugged.

"We didn't know you were there, much less that you were commanding the enemy forces. I didn't know he had fallen until the entire battle was over; he was killed in the final assault on Galbadia Garden."

Seifer stared at Randolph for several moments, remembering what had happened in that battle. He had been the one to organize the Galbadian defenses specifically to inflict the maximum number of Dollet and Garden casualties. So, in a way . . . He had engineered his father's death.

A sweeping tumult of emotions rolled through Seifer at that moment, and he could only close his eyes, sit back, and shake his head.

"_Damn,"_ he muttered, and that word spoke volumes regarding his thoughts to the other two people seated at the table.

* * *

The sun was starting to rise above the cliffs overlooking Dollet, the brilliant yellow light setting the sea ablaze. The swirling ocean winds cut through the air surrounding the black-clad figure as he stood atop the cliffs, staring into the rising sun and paying no heed to the intensity of its light. 

The Chimera heard her approach up the side of the cliff long before she arrived. Beneath the hat, he managed a slight inward smile; he knew she was coming, and knew she would be punctual. After all, Rinoa wanted answers, and she had naturally zeroed in on him for those answers. So, when he had left a brief phone message on her machine in her quarters, she had called him back and agreed to meet him out here, on the cliffs overlooking the ocean and the city. This place was quiet and distant; perfect for an equally quiet and distant meeting.

She reached the top of the ridge, and stood behind him, staring at his back, her hair buffeted by the swirling morning winds and squinting in the growing yellow light.

"So, what?" she asked immediately, being as blunt as possible. He managed a chuckle at that, and turned toward her, fixing her with his crimson gaze. He noted that she wore loose trousers and a short-sleeved black shirt, with the Revolver sheathed prominently on her hip . . . As if she was doing what she could to emulate Squall's pragmatic behavior.

"You said you wanted to talk with me," she continued. She held her hands out wide. "So, let's talk."

"Hm," the Chimera replied, cocking his head to the side. "Right. What shall we talk about, then? I'm sure you have questions."

"How do I kill him?" she asked, once again bluntly, and the Chimera blinked, before nodding.

"I see. You want to put him out his misery, then." He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then managed a chuckle. "Why?"

"I'm the one asking the questions here," she countered immediately, clearly impatient. He looked back up at her, sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a patient expression, the kind a parent would give a child who was wrong and would soon enough realize their mistake. They matched gazes for a moment, and Rinoa finally sighed explosively.

"Because he's Squall, and if there's anything even resembling a pile of brain matter in your skull, you'd understand why that's all that needs to matter to me." She crossed her arms over her chest, and stared right back at him. "That's it. I'm going to kill him because I have to."

"Do you believe you can?" the Chimera asked, and Rinoa was surprised by the simple question.

"What?"

"Do you honestly believe you can kill him?" he asked again. "And I do not mean merely in terms of physical skill and ability, either. I want to know if you can honestly muster the conviction you would need to drive that sword through his heart and end his suffering." She narrowed her eyes at him, face twisting in anger.

"Don't even _presume_ to think you know if I can -"

"Do you?" he growled suddenly. "Tell me, Rinoa Heartilly. Can you kill Squall Leonhart?" He started walking toward her, angling his body forward, in a clearly threatening stance. "Can put an end to the hellish life that creature is leading? Can you strike him down?"

"Of course I can!" she replied, and slid into a guard, grabbing her gunblade's handle and standing ready. "Why are you asking me?"

"I don't know," the Chimera answered, stepping toward her, and she saw the white glimmer of his teeth as he started to smile. "Maybe I doubt you can do it. Maybe I don't think you're worthy of killing him. Maybe you're just not able to do it because you're hung up on the life of a man too weak to keep himself alive to see you again. A worthless shell of Chimera genes taken over by a monster because he lacked the conviction and the backbone to do what he had to do himself."

"_Fuck_ you!" Rinoa snarled, and she shot ahead, drawing her weapon in a flash of enraged frenzy. The Chimera snapped his won blade off his shoulder, intercepting the Revolver's stroke. He hopped back as she spun low into a sweep with her left leg, and shot ahead in a rising right kick. The foot slammed into his left-hand gauntlet, boot ringing solidly against metal, and the long sword snapped across, slashing at her head. She hopped back a step, the Revolver rising and intercepting the horizontal cut with deft ease.

The Chimera's barked laugh cut through the morning air.

"Squall Leonhart, the worthless, pathetic martyr, throwing his life aside for what?" He shook his head. "To end up revived and in the state he is in now? Unable to even understand who and what he was? A waste of useful flesh and machinery."

Rinoa leapt backward, face contorting with anger at the Chimera's continued insults toward Squall's memory, and charged ahead, gunblade spinning over head and swinging out in a vicious left-to-right cleave that would have knocked the sword out of any other swordsman's hands. The Chimera' blade, however, cut down and intercepted Rinoa's weapon with a jarring impact of metal on unyielding metal, and the weapon in her hands shook, despite her junctions. She was surprised by the blow, and was shocked by the speed of the Chimera's counter. In a single smooth, deft move, he slapped his sword down atop hers, stepped forward, grabbed her right wrist in his left hand, and sent his right hand forward, punching her in the gut. Rinoa was hurled backward, as if struck by a concrete pillar in the stomach, and rolled away across the stone cliff-top.

"And an even more important question is why he would even care for someone like you!" he snarled. "Squall Leonhart wouldn't want someone dwelling on his past. He wouldn't want someone grieving over his death!" He narrowed his eyes at her as she pushed herself up, coughing violently.

"Squall Leonhart is dead. You haven't accepted that fact, which is half the reason you want to kill that creature! As long as you don't have a corpse in your hands, you can't move on."

Rinoa ran forward, blade in hand, and launched a thrust at the Chimera, whose weapon flew across and intercepted the stroke again, a deft one-handed block that knocked her weapon out wide. His left hand flew ahead, at her throat, and grasped her neck tightly. He lifted her up into the air, and his right hand flickered, sheathing his sword. She struggled vainly against the cold, unyielding metal of his gauntlet as he held her up high.

"Once again, helpless," he muttered, his voice becoming tinged with darker tones. "Useless, worthless, and helpless. Just like he was. You are a slave to the Chimera's legacy, just as much as he was. Trapped within his memory, grieving for his loss, and looking to kill that corpse because of some misguided sense of duty and as one final method of saying goodbye."

He released her suddenly, letting her fall to the ground, and stared at Rinoa as she gagged, clutching her throat. After a moment, he backed away, and then turned back toward the cliff, cutting off visual contact with her. He heard her shuffle to her feet, and retrieve her weapon, but did not sense her preparing to attack.

Good. She was rational enough that she understood.

"He is _dead_, Rinoa," whispered the Chimera, his words a sudden and startling departure from the snarls and growls he had been issuing moments before. "You wanted to kill him because you haven't let him go, not because he wouldn't want to keep living on in that state."

Rinoa glared at his back for several long moments, and then sheathed her weapon. She closed her eyes, and pondered what he had said. He was right; since she had encountered his body in that room, she had wanted to kill him, but not because she wanted to be merciful . . . Rinoa had wanted to kill him so she could say goodbye to him, in a way that they hadn't been able to speak at his death in Balamb Garden.

"You . . . You weren't attacking me or uttering contempt toward him," she said, understanding. "You were drawing out my emotions, making me attack you. Why?"

The Chimera didn't speak for a moment.

"I wanted to judge how much you cared for him," he answered finally. "If you loved him, and loved him enough to kill him out of mercy, then you wouldn't let me insult his memory like that. That's how I could tell . . . You have the heart to put an end to a suffering man's misery, but you just needed the proper motivations. Do not hold his memory for grief, but hold it and take joy from what you knew."

The Chimera turned toward Rinoa, and managed a smile at her. An instant later, a flash of insight struck her, and she then knew what he meant.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Killing Squall because I still grieve for him would let Griever win," she explained. "But by killing him as a mercy, and cherishing what we had, we both defeat Griever, which honors the whole point behind his death in the first place."

"You're smarter than most people give you credit," the Chimera said, nodding. He walked past her, and started down the path leading up the cliff.

"Now, you just have to follow up on those words," he added. He paused and looked back to her. "Can you kill the Requiem now?"

"Yes," she answered with all the conviction she held. "I can. And for the right reasons."

"Good." He turned away from her and started down the path, disappearing into the shadows the mountain cast against dawn's rays.

* * *

-

* * *

Oy. This chapter was soemthing of a challenge to get out. I had a lot of trouble making the dialogue between the Chimera and Rinoa work.

Until next chapter...


	37. VI: Scarred

**A/N:** For the assault on the trainyard, I would recommend "Sara Ni Takatau Monotachi" off the Advent Children soundtrack (the music when the heroes are fighting Bahamut Sin) For Rinoa and the Chimera vs. the Requiem, I recommend "Stricken" by Distrubed off the Ten Thousand Fists album. And when the truth is finally revealed, "The Prisoner" by Mothergoat.

* * *

_**Chapter 6: Scarred**_

"_It didn't work," he snarled, walking back into the room. Nash blinked, and leaned back against a wall, crossing his arms._

"_What do you mean?" he asked, and the man spun on the scientist, and jabbed a finger at his forehead._

"_This thing? What else do you expect?" Nash's eyes widened at the man's snarling tone, and he shook his head._

"_Impossible. The Requiem's system's can't penetrate-"_

"_Not the requiem," he snapped. Nash stared at him for a second, and then suddenly understood._

"_What happened?" he asked, now concerned._

"_I nearly killed her, that's what," he responded to the scientist's question. "It was subtle, but it was there. I almost lost control."_

"_The Elemental Restriction System should have held it in check . . . ." Nash managed to say._

"_Well, it didn't," he replied viciously. "And at this rate . . . ."_

"_I'll find a way to fix it, to further suppress it," Nash managed to say, but his guest shook his head._

"_No amount of technology can contain this," he replied. "Eventually, it will consume me and drive me insane. But there are things I need to take care of before that happens."_

"_Killing the Requiem," Nash said, and he nodded solemnly._

_

* * *

_

"Good afternoon," said the man sitting across from him in the booth, as he sat down. Alucard, Guardian of Existence, smiled as he saw the face of someone he had not seen in many years. The Guardian settled into his chair, and a waitress came by to ask them for their drinks. Wine and Dollet brandy, came the usual responses, still remembered from decades ago, and she went to fill their orders.

"Its been a while," remarked the man sitting across from Alucard. The Guardian chuckled, and nodded.

"How many decades?" the Guardian asked.

"Three," came the immediate response, and Alucard chuckled again.

"You haven't aged a day, my friend," he remarked. The man shrugged.

"You know who, and what, I am," he replied. "Not a Guardian, of course, but as close to immortal as a mortal can get."

"Of course," Alucard replied. "So, what brings us together again?"

"Mutual enemies, and mutual acquaintances," answered the man. "We both know what is coming, don't we?"

"Hyne," answered Alucard, and the man nodded. He let out a tired sigh, and shook his head.

"I'm tired of hiding my history, of who I am and who I was," he explained. "Its time to put an end to this." He shook his head. "Immortality is not all its cracked up to be. How do you people do it?"

"Mortals are not meant to live forever," Alucard replied. "But then, that is why humans die eventually. It's the natural order of things. That project you participated in broke the fundamental tenets of humanity. You, my friend, are the ultimate result of that. A mixture of man and monster, the ultimate warrior."

"A Chimera," the man replied quietly. "A twisted monster who should never have existed."

"But even if you are a monster," Alucard explained, "You can correct your mistakes, am I right?"

"Maybe," the Chimera answered.

* * *

Daniel Tomweather was the local manager of Timber International Transit's #87 train maintenance yard, and he did his job well. He showed up to work every day, exactly on time, to oversee the routine maintenance of every single train that was left at his facility for repairs and upgrades. With a hundred and seven engineers and repair crew, fifteen security officers, and a half-dozen lower-level clerical staff under his direct command, he had quite the handful of work to do, which was why he always arrived with perfect punctuality to the station so he could get to doing what needed to be doing. 

The train yard seemed unusually quiet this morning, but he passed that off as being the result of many of his workers being late. He passed by two repair crewmen working on one of the two dozen parked trains stretching across the large complex, and walked up a staircase leading into the office building overlooking the train yard. He walked into his office, turned the laptop screen to face him, and started booting it up.

The first thing he did was check his inbox. He opened it, but was surprised to see what looked like sixty mails, all from his workers. A quick check showed Daniel that they were all confused messages regarding him sending out mails about "stopping work for the day." A quick check of his outbox showed that they were right; he had sent a mail out to many of his workers telling them to take the day off. But he'd never sent that mail . . . And it came from this computer.

"What the hell . . . ." he muttered, and looked out his office window. He saw what looked like the remainder of his crew, the repair and maintenance people, and the security officers, moving around, but then noticed something shocking.

They weren't carrying tools; they all had weapons. Plasma rifles and shotaxes, the kind of gear Estharians used.

"Relax," came a voice, and Daniel looked up, to see someone had slipped through his door with utter silence. The huge, musclebound man twirled a knife absently between his fingers and stared at Daniel calmly.

"Sit down, shut up, and you won't die," he explained. "The trainyard is being taken over for the day. You don't do anything stupid, and we won't have to kill you."

Daniel started to say something, but then finally nodded. He moved toward his chair-

The glass of his window shattered, and something leapt into the room. Daniel turned toward it, and his chest exploded in twin blasts of agony. He felt sharp, icy blades drive up into his lungs and lift him up off the floor.

"I got tired of waiting, Malachi," the creature, a monster in chitinous armor, hissed with its harsh electronic voice. It then spun and hurled Daniel Tomweather across his office to smack into the wall with a wet _crunch_.

* * *

Ragnarok's engines pulsed as it cut over the forests of Timber, flying as fast as it could toward the #87 Timber International Transit trainyard. Quistis had assembled the a strike team of all the on-alert SeeDs in Galbadia garden, totaling at about fifty troops. Along with these soldiers were Irvine, Zell, andRinoa, with Seifer in command. The briefing had been brutally simple. 

"This trainyard is occupied by enemy forces," Quistis had explained. "We anticipate a force of largely Elemental soldiers present. Expect between sixty to seventy hostiles, likely trying to recover this device." She showed them the schematics of a cylindrical device. "This is an aerosol bomb that will release a chemical that will transform anyone who breathes it into an Elemental. The enemy must not get their hands on this device, at any cost."

This was followed by the most recent maps and layout of the trainyard, and an explanation as to how they would be inserted. Since finesse and subtlety were out of the question, they were going to fly straight in with the Ragnarok, and use its overwhelming firepower to suppress the enemy. Ground troops would drop in, locate the package, and secure it. They didn't have any intelligence on where the bomb was or exactly how many hostiles they would face, whether there would be civilians present, or any of a hundred other factors. They were almost going in blind.

"This plan kinda sucks," commented one of the SeeDs, and Seifer shrugged.

"You got a better one?" he asked the SeeD, and he shook his head quickly.

"Just making a learned observation, sir." The beeping of the ship's intercom cut in.

"Everyone, stand by," came the call from Mike, the airship's pilot. "We're twenty minutes from our target! Get ready!"

* * *

While the Ragnarok cut a crimson trail across the skies of Timber, another figure sliced through the shaded back-wood roads of Timber's forests, his black motorcycle blazing a far less obvious trail. 

"_SeeD is twenty minutes out from the trainyard,"_ came Nash's voice over the Chimera's cell phone, and he nodded.

"I won't be able to get there in time to make a difference," he muttered. He paused as he drove down the road, turning gradually to his left. "But I can intercept the train if it leaves."

"_We're going to do our damndest to keep any trains from leaving," _Nash added.

"See that you do," the Chimera finished, and hung up his phone, and gunned the engine as he came out of the turn. The motorcycle roared like a hunting cat and jetted ahead, leaving a swirling trail of leaves flying in its wake.

* * *

The Ragnarok leapt into view directly over the trainyard with such speed that the terrorists below barely had time to raise their weapons before the airship was positioned directly overhead. Plasma fire stuttered up toward the airship, slamming into the glittering crimson hull plates and etching cloudy trails across the armor. 

"LZ is hot!" Mike shouted over the intercom, and his gunner activated, lowered, and aimed the heavy anti-personnel machinegun mounted beneath the dragon-head bow. The cannon swiveled toward their attackers and opened fire, the deafening roar of the heavy cannon blasting down at the rising plasma bolts, easily able to locate the shooters from their trails of energy. Heavy rounds slammed into the terrorists, blasting off arms and legs and ripping bodies in half, sending gushing splatters of maroon blood across the trains and equipment they were taking cover behind.

"Be careful!" Mike shouted as the entry ramp lowered and he brought the airship close to the ground. "We have Elementals on the ground!"

The entry ramp finished lowering, and Zell, as always, was the first one out, with a roaring shout of "Go! Go! Go!" His feet hit the gravelly dirt between the train tracks, and the train cars rose up on either side of him. He immediately ran forward, hearing the discharge of plasma fire on the other side of the car to his left. Seifer landed right behind him, followed by Rinoa, several SeeDs, Irvine, and finally Quistis, as the rest of the SeeDs piled off.

The plasma fire grew louder, and Zell stopped at one of the train car's doors. He spun and swiftly kicked the door in, and burst through the empty passenger car, knocking down the door on the opposite side and leaping out. He found himself staring directly at an Elemental soldier, clad in the blue overalls of a maintenance worker, and rushed ahead before the man could react. His right leg flew ahead in a powerful forward kick that smashed the man in his nose and sent him flipping backwards through the air, maroon blood gushing from his face.

No one had told Zell, or any of the SeeDs, to take these guys down alive, and Zell promptly chose to smash the terrorist's skull in as he rose, smashing purple-red blood and skull fragments across the ground.

"_All SeeDs, be advised,"_ Mike's voice cut in over their radio._ "We have heavy concentration of enemy forces roughly two train cars ahead of your position. It looks like they're trying to get the train started."_

"That's our target!" Quistis shouted as she, Seifer, and a dozen other SeeDs rushed through the opening Zell had bashed. "Zell, pave us a path!"

"Booya!" Zell shouted, and charged at the next train car, slamming into the door with his forehead, his blood pumping in excitement. The door was blasted off its hinges and smashed into an enemy soldier standing in the train car, knocking him over. Zell rand over the door laying atop the terrorist and shoulder-blocked the door on the opposite side clean off, with a pair of SeeDs right behind him. Seifer was behind them, stopping to stab his gunblade into the fallen soldier's throat and fire a blast from the weapon.

Zell landed outside, directly facing a shotaxe-wielding soldier. The man slashed down viciously, the blade stabbing into the charging brawler's left shoulder and cutting deeply, despite Zell's defensive junctions. The brawler twisted, tearing his shoulder free, and punched the man in the chest with a deadly uppercut. A resounding crunch echoed off the parked trains, and the Elemental was launched up and backward to smash against the far train car. Zell rushed ahead to finish the enemy soldier off, but then he pitched backward, his chest erupting in searing pain.

The thunderous echo of a rifle followed Zell as he fell back to the ground.

"Sniper! Sniper!" came a shout from Seifer as the two SeeDs following Zell rushed out. One grabbed Zell, while the other fired a burst from his rifle into the stunned Elemental's face as he started to rise. Another roaring blast filled the trainyard, and the firing SeeD spun around, blood flying from his throat. The SeeD carrying Zell pressed himself up against the far train car as Seifer rushed out of the car, a bullet smacking into the wall directly behind him.

"_On it!"_ came Mike's shout, and the Ragnarok's anti-personnel machinegun began to fire. An instant later, there was a pulse of blue-white light, and a bolt of plasma the size of a man slammed into the Ragnarok's port engine. Fire erupted out of the wound, and the airship started to list to the side.

"_We're hit! We're hit!" _The airship started to drop down, sidling to the side to avoid crashing into the train cars. _"I'm bringing us down! Shit! That was anti-air fire! Keep your heads down!"_

"I'm on the sniper," came Irvine's voice, calm and quiet. Another shot filled the air, nearly decapitating another SeeD, as the remaining forces took cover behind the train cars. Seifer moved over to Zell, as Rinoa risked moving ahead, drawing another shot that arced over her shoulder.

"Son of a bitch," Zell muttered, pressing his hands to the injury. Rinoa pulled his hands back, and saw blood gushing through his wound.

"Medic!" she shouted, seeing how serious the injury was. She quickly pulled out a small first aid kit, and poured a healing potion over the injury. Zell winced as she worked fast to try to keep him from bleeding out. Another sniper round cut through the air. In the distance, they heard Ragnarok settled down hard with a dull _whumph_ and a faint tremor running through the ground. Rinoa looked back for the medic, and saw a barrel poking over the top of the train car behind them.

The resounding _crack_ of Irvine's sniper rifle struck their ears. There was a moment's hesitation.

"Got him," Irvine called. "Not as much of him as I wanted, but I got him."

"Medic, move up!" Seifer shouted, and turned toward the door leading into the next train car. He reared back and kicked it, knocking it partially off its hinges. He kicked again, throwing it down. Rinoa leapt into the gap, drawing the Revolver and chopping viciously against the door on the opposite side of the car. As the blade hit, she pulled the trigger, and the concussive blast blew the door in half, launching it out and away. She charged through the gap, and found herself staring down the barrels of half a dozen plasma rifles.

Irvine's rifle cracked again, and one of the glass windows of the passenger car shattered, and a terrorist's head exploded in a cloud of purple mist. Rinoa lurched forward, gunblade arcing across, and another flashing concussive detonation blasted one man's rifle apart in a stroke of blue light and erupting green coolant gas.

Seifer and his blades were next, the saber and Hyperion leading as he leapt out of the train car and stabbing into one man's chest. Hyperion fired, shattering the man's chest and launching him back, and the saber arced across, slicing the wrist of another enemy Elemental. Rinoa rushed ahead, slamming into an elemental with all her strength, staggering the soldier back with a solid shoulder-block. The Revolver flew across, slashing into the soldier's side, and it fired again, blasting the man in half.

Over the din of battle, they could hear a train starting up, the _chug-chug_ of its engine propelling the train ahead.

More SeeDs rushed out of the train car behind them, with several vaulting and leaping over the top of the intervening car. Two, carrying rifles, landed atop the train car and opened fire on the enemy train as it started to pull out. Seifer, Rinoa, and their backup finished off the remaining Elemental rear-guard as Quistis and the rest of the SeeDs began emerging from the previous train car.

"They're pulling out!" Irvine shouted as he leapt over the intervening train cars, exchanging his sniper rifle from his Valiant rifle. The train started to pull away, gaining speed, as the sharpshooter dashed toward it. Moving fast, Seifer, Rinoa, Quistis, and the SeeDs started after the train as it pulled away, steadily gaining speed. Those with rifles and other firearms fired as they charged, covering the rest of the group as they neared the train. Irvine was closest, and as he drew near the rear of the passenger train, he worked his rifle quickly, modifying it to machinegun fire. He drew closer to the departing train and leapt up onto it, grabbing onto the rear of the train with one hand and clenching his Valiant in his other. He kicked open the rear door viciously and swept the rifle across the interior, firing it in its machinegun configuration.

Brass casings flew, and several terrorists cried out in pain as rounds ripped through wood, metal, and plastic seats. The sharpshooter rushed forward into the room, and saw one Elemental dead, and ducked beneath the slashing fire of another terrorist's plasma rifle. He dove behind a seat, ejecting the spent magazine of his rifle and loading a grenade shell into it. The sharpshooter poked the rifle over the top of his seat and fired blindly in the direction the shots were coming from, and was rewarded by a resounding explosion and the distant, final screams of the Elemental.

Boots impacting metal could be heard over the roar of the train as it picked up speed, and Rinoa swept into the room, followed by Seifer and Quistis, and several more SeeDs as they leapt aboard.

"Clear!" Rinoa called as Irvine stood up, reconfiguring his rifle to shotgun fire and loading it.

"Sweep and clear," Quistis ordered. "The bomb is on this train, and they're not going to let us get it."

* * *

Major Eric Malachi winced as he moved through one of the passenger cars further up the train from where the SeeDs had breached. The sniper - Kinneas, it had to be - had gotten him good in the shoulder, but at least he had managed to snipe one SeeD for certain, and had badly wounded Dincht. 

"Major!" called one of his soldiers, and Malachi looked back to the insurgent. "Sir, several SeeDs have taken the last car!"

"Hold them off," Malachi ordered. "Get everyone to the rear cars and keep those bastards back!" He paused for a moment, and added "Get a team together to detach the rear train cars. If we can't kill the SeeDs, we can lose them. Everyone else, fend off the SeeDs and keep them from advancing."

"Everyone?" the soldier asked, and Malachi nodded.

"Everyone." The soldier nodded and brandished his rifle, and turned to relay his orders. Malachi turned and moved back up the length of the passenger car, and entered the next one, where the chitinous-armored figure stood, holding the silvery cylinder in its hands, looking over it with an almost childlike fascination.

"We're away," he told the Requiem, and the armored figure nodded.

"Make sure none of them interfere," it said in its harsh electrical voice, and Malachi nodded.

"I've already given the orders."

"Good," the Requiem replied, and turned to him. It extended a hand toward Malachi, holding the aerosol bomb out to him. "Take this and secure it, Malachi. This bomb is the key to everything. Do not let it fall into enemy hands."

"Of course," Malachi replied, taking the cylinder in his hands. "And you?"

"The blood on these claws has nearly dried," the Requiem answered, and beneath the mask, it smiled. "I must remedy that."

* * *

The Elemental was hurled back, blasted in half by Irvine's shotgun blast, and the sharpshooter pumped his rifle's action and ducked behind another seat. Beside him, Quistis coiled her whip around an opponent's shotaxe and twisted it aside. Unable to put her weapon to its deadliest work in the tight confines, she instead drew the knife at her waist and stabbed it up into the Elemental's throat, and tore it out, before kicking the soldiers down. Seifer leapt up and over one of the passenger seats, diving atop another Elemental with both blades flashing. Rinoa bulled past the opponent Quistis had felled, firing her sub-machinegun as she advanced, the rounds riddling and tearing apart the enemy soldier and throwing him to the ground in a puddle of maroon blood. 

"Clear!" she called, but her words were instantly countered when she saw movement outside the train car, u ahead. At the connection between this car and the next, someone was rappelling down the side of the car, and accessing what looked like the security override that held the two cars together. She blinked for a second, surprised that someone was using such a desperate tactic, and remembering the risky technique that she and Squall had used over four years ago.

Rinoa calmly slid the window open, poked her weapon out the opening, and fired a sustained burst that slammed into the ballsy soldier. One of the rounds cut through his rappelling rope, and he fell away, bouncing along the train tracks. Rinoa quickly stuck her head out, to locate anyone else standing atop the train can, and caught a flash of chitinous armor. Her heart spiked, and she moved back inside, and ran toward one of the exterior doors.

"I'm going up top!" she shouted.

"Rinoa! Seifer called as she threw the door open and started climbing up the exterior ladder. "_Rinoa!"_

"Less worrying about our emotionally scarred friend, more worrying about saving humanity!" Irvine muttered, rushing past Seifer. He reared back and kicked down the door connected the next car to this one, and rushed into the next room. He raised his weapon, leveling the rifle at the next terrorist he saw, an oddly diminutive figure.

A wall of blue-white ice shot up between them. Irvine froze for an instant, not understanding, and then a sudden flash of horrified thought cut through him. He fired, the shotgun blast smash into the wall of ice. He pumped his rifle, firing again, smashing more of it. A third blast blew the last of the ice barrier away, and it crumbled before him.

As the ice fell away, he saw the small figure again, and equal amounts of shock, horror, and elation went through him. She was clad in the blue overalls the terrorists were using, and her hair no longer had the bouncy curls it once held previously, instead hanging limply past her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes, transformed by the change she had undergone, stared back at him, and her nunchaku were held in tightly gripped hands.

"Selphie?" Irvine whispered.

She stared back at him, and managed a slight smile.

"Irvine," she replied, her voice sounding happy, yet . . . somehow subdued.

He started to speak again, but then her left hand pointed toward the sharpshooter. Something slammed into him, and an icy cold shot through his left chest. He looked down, to see a long, serrated icicle spear having stabbed through his upper left chest. His left leg went icy cold too as a second spear stabbed into his upper left thigh. He looked back at her, not understanding, and his knees went weak. Irvine collapsed to the left, and Seifer leapt into the room after him. He stopped, as well, upon seeing Selphie.

"Selphie? What the fuck-" A blast of icy wind hurled Seifer off his feet. Quistis was behind him, and was hurled away as well, back into the previous car. Selphie looked down at Irvine, almost sadly, and shook her head, before turning and walking toward the far end of the car.

"Detach the train cars," she ordered coldly, and a wall of ice shot up behind her, cutting the SeeDs off from stopping the train car's detachment.

* * *

The train continued to pick up speed as Rinoa climbed up on top of it. By now it had already passed the trainyard and was now driving down a train track line in the thick woodlands of Timber's countryside. But she wasn't paying attention to the waves of green surrounding the train as it moved along, the passing winds buffeting her hair and clothes. She was instead focused on the figure before her, the faceless mask shielding what she knew lay beyond. 

The Requiem stared at her for a moment, cocking its head to the side, brown hair flying around wildly, and managed a short, barking electrical laugh.

"You again," it remarked. "You . . . You seem familiar, somehow."

Rinoa almost felt the urge to burst into tears at those words, but she stuffed them down, reminding herself over and over again that this wasn't Squall . . . Just a monster of armor and machine using Squall's corpse.

She said nothing, but instead just drew the Revolver and advanced. The Requiem stared at her for a moment, and the claws mounted on its forearms slid out, and it dropped into a combat stance, low to the ground, tensed and ready like a hunting animal.

The Revolver slashed across in a quick cut that the Requiem ducked under. A descending diagonal cut forced it back a step, and Rinoa followed through with a high kick that rang against its mask. The Requiem shot ahead, stabbing both claws at her, and she spun away, gunblade slashing before her and warding away the striking blades. She rushed in with another arcing slash, but the Requiem backed up, left arm flying out wide and parrying her strike, while its right arm stabbed ahead. Rinoa dropped low and into a sweep, nearly taking its legs out from under it, but it leapt up and over her leg. Both of its legs shot forward, and the armored boots of its feet slammed into her chin, launching her backward. She rolled along the top of the train, and the Requiem spun and ran toward the next car. Rinoa was up and after it, and only faintly heard the sound of this car and the next one uncoupling.

_Dammit! They couldn't secure the bomb. But still, if I kill Squall . . . If I kill this thing, it'll all be over . . . ._

She rushed toward the Requiem, but as she advanced, and the train started turning, she saw a bridge up ahead, rising up over the train. And standing atop that bridge was a man in black, sword strapped across his back.

The requiem turned to face her as she jumped onto the next car, and crouched again, baring its blades. Rinoa prepared herself, holding her blade out before her, ready to intercept its strikes. It edged toward her, and then they passed beneath the bridge. Darkness sheathed the train for an instant, and the Requiem readied to pounce, when it sensed a shadow descending over it. It leapt backward in a deft evasion, and a slicing blade cleaved through the train rooftop where it had been standing.

The Chimera extracted his blade, holding his hat in place with his left, gauntleted hand as she sheathed the weapon.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

"Better late than never," Rinoa replied, and he chuckled. He turned his red eyes toward the Requiem. "Come on. Let's finish this. Are you ready to kill it?"

Rinoa walked up beside the Chimera, sword in hand, and nodded. The Requiem glanced between them, and straightened, and then managed another electrical snicker.

"Two against one isn't exactly fair," it remarked. "Sorry, but I can't play under these rules."

With that, it spun and leapt off the side of the train, into the woods. The Chimera whirled to instantly give chase, leaping off the train.

"What the-" Rinoa managed to say, and ran to the edge of the train. She gritted her teeth and leapt off the top of it, hoping her junctions would shield her from the fall.

"You are _not_ escaping that easily!"

* * *

The Requiem's footsteps crunched through broken branches and leaves, and the Chimera was right behind it, darting between the trees. The Requiem ran forward, leaping up into the air and planting its feet against a tree, and then kicking off, flying toward the Chimera. His sword flashed out, intercepting the striking claws, and his left hand shot ahead, punching it in the chest and tossing it backward. The creature flew away, its feet digging furrows in the soft forest floor, and it dashed away. The Chimera charged after it, smashing through undergrowth in pursuit. 

The Requiem dropped down from above without warning, but the Chimera's sword cut out, blocking its striking claws. His left hand flew up, wrapping around the Requiem's throat, and he spun, spiking it into the ground with an impact that shook leaves from the trees. The Requiem bounced up into the air, and its feet found purchase on the trunk of another three, and it kicked off again, leaping into a wild spinning kick.

The armored boot slammed into the Chimera's gauntleted left hand, and his arm threaded inside the kick, closing around the requiem's foot. He spun around, launching the armored creature into a tree hard enough to shatter straight through the trunk and fly on. The cracking collapse of the broken tree resounded throughout the forest as the Requiem planted itself against another tree and kicked off.

Sword and gauntlet slammed into the Requiem's claws, stopping it a foot away from the Chimera, and he spun into a kick that impacted solidly against its flank and launched it away. It smashed into the trunk of another tree, bark exploding from the impact.

"Dammit," the Requiem hissed.

"Just sit still and die," the Chimera replied. "It will be a whole lot less painful."

The Requiem managed a barking laugh, and stood up, when the flashing blaze of gunfire struck it. Bullets rang and ricocheted off its armor as Rinoa rushed through the undergrowth, her sub-machinegun firing. Snarling,t he Requiem turned and retreated,a nd Rinoa charged after it.

"Rinoa!" shouted the Chimera, but she rushed past him, slinging her sub-machinegun and drawing the Revolver. He cursed under his breath as she charged after the fleeing creature, and reached into his hat, pulling his bandana over his eyes.

"You're going to get yourself killed," he hissed, and pursued.

The Requiem burst into a clearing, and, in a move that was rapidly becoming common for it, it whirled suddenly on Rinoa and leapt at her, claws slashing viciously. The Revolver snapped left and right, somehow managing to parry both claws, and head snapped forward, smashing into the Requiem's mask. It was launched back by the vicious headbutt, and Rinoa winced, rubbing her forehead. It didn't look like it hurt Zell when he did that . . . .

The Requiem recovered quickly, charging toward her once more. It leapt toward her, claws sweeping out wide to crash down upon her. Rinoa readied her blade, raising it into a guard-

And the black-clad Chimera shot between them, left arm shooting out and stopping the Requiem in mid-dive, hand planted against its chest. His right arm shot across, punching it in the gut and throwing it backward.

"Rinoa, get back!" he ordered, reaching for his sword.

"No!" she responded, gripping her blade more tightly. He turned toward her, and she saw that his eyes were no longer visible, blotted out by the bandana he had pulled over his eyes.

"I said get back!" he snarled violently, and she firmly shook her head. The Requiem was recovering from the blow, and charged toward them, and the Chimera shook his head again.

"I have to-" Rinoa began to say, and then his fist slammed into her face, hurling her backward across the clearing. The Requiem closed in, crying its horrible electronic cry, and the Chimera drew his sword. He spun, the blade flicking out wide, and his left foot swinging up in a powerful side kick that launched the Requiem across the clearing. It slammed into the ground with a pained cry, but this cry was no longer the harsh metallic screeching from before, butt he natural grunt of someone with an unamplified voice.

The armored figure stood up shakily, blood tracing across its exposed forehead, and the pieces of its mask scattered across the clearing, sliced off by the flick of the Chimera's blade. Armored fingers reached up to the creature's face, touching it, and it cast an eyeless gaze upon the Chimera as he pulled the bandana off his eyes. Rinoa, dazed from his strike, sat up, shaking her head, and looked toward the Requiem.

"What did you do to me?" the Requiem hissed, and Rinoa's eyes widened. That voice . . . .

"I removed your mask," the Chimera answered. "Nothing more . . . _Illarra_."

The eyeless gaze on the armored creature, a beast that had once been named Illarra Varines, stared at the Chimera.

"That name . . . ." she whispered, and reached up, clutching her face, at the twin gouges that had taken her eyes. "That . . . That name . . . _my name . . . ._"

She let out a sudden, piercing cry of pain and understanding, and whirled, leaping away toward the treeline and disappearing.

Rinoa stared at the spot where the Requiem - Illarra Varines - had fled, her jaw open and still trying to make sense of what had just happened.

It wasn't Squall. That creature . . . It had been Illarra. Not Squall.

She stood up shakily, her emotions a turmoil of confusion, shock, and disappointment. She had . . . Honestly, she had been expecting to see Squall. And this sudden shift, the discovery that it was not Squall, but his freakish, self-styled twin sister she had been hunting . . . .

"I am sorry," the Chimera managed to say. He crossed the empty clearing, toward her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, and closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"I was . . . After what I saw, I was expecting him to be in that armor, not her . . . ."

"You wanted to see him again even if he was just a monster," the Chimera whispered, and Rinoa nodded. She looked across the clearing, and saw the dropped gunblade. She walked across the clearing and scooped it up out of the grass.

She looked down at the gleaming silver edge of the gunblade, Squall's gunblade, and closed her eyes. Lowering the weapon, she remembered his reflection in the sword, his smile, his features. Rinoa let out a shuddering sigh of sadness and regret, and opened her eyes.

She could still see his image. His long brown hair, dropping past his chin, the short beard and mustache he had taken to growing. She could see the angry triad of scars, criss-crossing over his face, marking out his eyes. And yet, the image was distorted; where his eyes should have been destroyed, cut out by Illarra's weapons, they stared back at her. And then, she realized something.

Those eyes staring at her weren't blue.

They were _red_.

For several heartbeats, there was only silence in thatbright, sunlitclearing. She stared forward, not certain _what_ she was seeing. She blinked through the bloody-warm tears that she had been crying, trying to piece together what she saw before her.

Before her stood the Chimera, his hat removed and in his hands, a silver metallic bandana upon his forehead, with three scars cutting across his face, one stretching across his right eye, another cutting down over his left, and one _across the bridge of his nose, high right to lower left._

She found herself unable to inhale; her breath escaped her in an instant as she stared at the man before her. Rinoa stumbled a step forward, raising her left hand, touching the hair on his chin, and tracing it up his face, over his nose, across the rough skin of the scars, and the cold metal of the bandana.

_He was real._

Thirteen months of pent-up grief came crashing down. A cataclysm of emotions, disbelief, shock, confusion, wonder, and pure white joy swept over her, and a waterfall of tears erupted from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in tightly, absolutely refusing to ever let him go ever again. He did just the same, pulling her in tight, listening to her sobs of shocked happiness, and whispered three comforting words in her ear, words she'd always wanted to hear but had never dared to hope she'd hear them.

_"I'm back, Rinoa,"_ said Squall Leonhart.

Thenoon sunshone down on them, the forest was silent, she was crying, he was whispering in her ear, and all was once more as it should be.

* * *

"So, they don't know anything, then?" Alucard asked, and the man across from him shook his head. 

"The man who called himself the Chimera is an imposter, using the name for his own ends, as a cloak to hide his true identity while he went about his work," replied the man on the other side of the table.

"And the real Chimera?" Alucard asked. The man chuckled.

"The Chimera is dead. The real one is dead and gone. All that's left of him are a few of his descendants, both direct and indirect. But the man himself is gone and buried." He narrowed his eyes. "All that is left of that man is his genes, living on in me and those based off who I once was."

"In other words, you _were_ him. Long ago." Alucard puffed his pipe, and the man sighed.

"Yes, I was. But not anymore. I'm just another soldier now."

"Not _just_ a soldier," answered Alucard. "A _General_."

General Randolph Almasy, who once bore the name "Chimera,"stared at Alucard from across the table, and was silent for a long while.

"Just a soldier," he finally repeated. "Nothing more."

* * *

-

* * *

What? Oh come on! There's a _reason_ Randolph is so badass! 

Wow. I've been wanting to write this chapter since I started the Legacy segment of the Chimera saga. I got finished with this chapter _fast._ Under six hours. Damn, I'm good. :P

Until next chapter...


	38. VII: Second Reunion

**A/N:** Only one track for this chapter. For Squall and Rinoa, "Journey's End" by Graylightning, Pixietricks, and Sephfire, an FFX remix from OCRemix. I couldn't think of anything else (and like most of my dialogue-heavy chapters, this one's relatively short….) I also added in Randolph's theme to the track listing in my profile page.

* * *

_**Chapter 7: Second Reunion**_

_The water flowed in around Squall, creeping in through the broken glass. Squall turned around, and looked across the command deck, his ankles splashing in the icy waters._

**So, this is how it ends?**

_Squall's response came as the icy waters rose up around his knees._

Now and forever, Griever. You will never harm another through me.

**Hm. If that is how it has to be. This is quite the . . . Disappointment. The hero dies at the end of his saga?**

Who said this was the end?

**An interesting answer. Your story will end if you continue down this path . . . .**

There is no damn story. There is no final fantasy. There's only life. And through my death, I save all others.

**Erudite, Commander. But at least I can savor this fact: through your death, you will cause tremendous grief.**

Not as much as you would have caused, Griever.

**But I yet win.**

No.

**How so?**

They will grow beyond that grief. They will continue on without me, and will not look back at my death with sadness. They will remember me as the man I was when I lived, not the man I was as I died.

_The water was rising up past Squall's chest_.

Grief is not eternal. Love and joy are. That is something you've never grasped, Griever.

**Indeed. This will be something to ponder during eternity, I suppose.**

_The water began to rise to Squalls neck, and he leaned his head back. For some reason, griever did not speak as he looked up, his Zanshin sight giving him an impeded view of the sky as the water flowed up past his chin, his mouth, his nose, his scarred eyes . . . . And then engulfed Squall Leonhart._

Goodbye, Rinoa. I'll be waiting . . . Wherever I'll be . . . .

_Squall laid his head back, and waited for his first glimpse of eternity. But then . . . Something changed._

_A hand plunged through the water, grabbing him by the front of his torn shirt, and hauled the SeeD Commander up out of the water, back into the clear air._

"_Squall, you stupid sonovabitch!" Nash snarled as he lifted the SeeD up out of the water. "I've spent over two hundred years walking this fucking planet, and I know one thing more than anything else, and that's just how _fucking stupid _Squall Leonhart can be. And there is no fucking way I'm letting you give up and die now!" _

_He hauled the SeeD up closer to him, and met his eyes with the SeeD's scarred ones._

"_Surrender and die, or fight and live, Squall. That's the rule of life, and you can't change it. Are you going to surrender to that bastard in your head and die, or are you going to fight him and live to see Rinoa again?"_

* * *

Nash was right. He admitted that to himself as he held her once again in his hands, squeezing her tightly, hearing her sobs of grief and joy intermixed. Several minutes passed in that clearing, with no real words spoken between them. Actions spoke louder than words anyway. It was a long time before anything was even audibly spoken. 

" How . . . ." Rinoa whispered as she held him, pressing herself into his chest and neck, his long brown hair dropping around her face.

"Nash made me realize what I was giving up if I let myself die," Squall answered in her ear. "I realized I couldn't let myself die, not with all that still needed to be done. And I couldn't die without seeing you again."

"But you said Griever . . . ." she said pulling back and looking up at him. Squall shook his head.

"I have him under control," he answered calmly. "Or at least, under enough control."

She stared up at him and the bandana he wore, and understood. Her hand reached up, tracing across his face, and she couldn't help but break out into a laughing smile at how real he felt, and how good it was to be back together. Her hands moved over his beard, his face, and his scarred eyes.

"Your eyes," she said, looking into the blood-red orbs.

"Cybernetic," he answered. "I got them in Esthar. Laguna knows I'm alive; he arranged them to be installed." Squall traced a hand across his eyes, and then grasped her hand in his own.

"Where have you been?" she asked. "Why didn't you come back to us? To me?"

"I . . . I couldn't return until I had learned to control him," Squall answered. "Even with the control system, I still didn't have complete control over him. I had to learn techniques for focus and control to keep Griever in check." He managed a slight smile. "That's how I learned iaijutsu."

He paused, and looked down at her, and remembered something.

"Serra? How is she doing?" he asked.

"She's fine," Rinoa answered quickly. "Fine. But . . . ." Rinoa stopped, and then pulled him into another hug. "I'm just glad to see you again."

"I know," he answered, holding her tightly as well. "I'm not letting you go. Nash told me what I needed to hear. I am not letting go, and I never will. I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

* * *

Irvine's junctions were the only thing that had kept him alive. The intense magic of Selphie's strike would have otherwise frozen his lungs and heart and would have killed him in a matter of moments after being impaled with the ice skewers. The quick application of a couple of healing potions and the attentions of a medic kept the sharpshooter alive and had him standing in a few minutes after the rear train cars had come to a stop, but his hands kept shaking. 

He had known, from the moment he remembered the Requiem's purpose, what must have happened to Selphie. He had still kept denying it, but now he had to accept the grim, bitter truth: Selphie, unwillingly, was now the enemy. And since he had only started using junctions after she had vanished, that strike with the ice spears would have been lethal to him as he was before.

_Selphie would have murdered me in cold blood, without blinking._

"Damn," Irvine whispered as he leaned against the wall of the stopped train car, and SeeDs hurried about the vehicle.

"I know," Seifer muttered beside him. "And damn, she's an Elemental, too. This is real ugly."

"How is Zell doing?" Irvine asked, and Seifer shrugged.

"He's alive," he replied. "Hell, it'll take more than a direct hit to the chest from a sniper rifle to bring him down."

"Timber police found the rest of the train seventeen miles down the tracks," Quistis said as she approached. "Stopped and empty. The terrorists are gone."

"I don't think Rinoa killed the Requiem, either," Seifer added. "So, where are we now?"

"If they're still using the ShadowNet, we'll monitor communications through that, try to find out where they're operating. In the meantime, we're alerting the CITU branches and the local militaries and police forces of Galbadia, Dollet, and Timber to keep an eye out for any known terrorists, including Malachi. If they're about to use the bomb, we'll know."

"If Rinoa didn't kill the Requiem, then where is she?" Irvine asked, and Seifer grimaced.

"She'd damn well better still be alive," he muttered. "But I don't think it killed her."

"It didn't," came a call from the edge of the treeline, and the trio looked up, to see Rinoa stepping out of the tree, a bit bruised and battered but otherwise fine. And behind her came the black-clad specter of the Chimera, only this time, he wasn't wearing his hat, which allowed all present to see his face clearly, including the silver bandana running across his forehead, over-

Irvine looked like he'd been punched in the stomach by Zell on a bad day. Quistis' jaw dropped open, and she stared in shock. Seifer just simply stared, not sure how to react. Several of the SeeDs looked to their comrades' shocked expressions, glanced at the Chimera, and then did double-takes.

They saw his features, masked beneath the bandana, the long brown hair, and the short beard. They saw his scars, and the piercing eyes that still possessed all their strength and determination, despite being cybernetic replacements. In spite of everything they had heard and known, and everything they thought they knew about the man in black they had encountered before, none of them could deny that they were staring at Squall Leonhart.

Squall looked over his comrades, and managed a slight, almost tired smile.

"So," he asked, "What happened since I died?"

* * *

Garden had added a second Estharian Ragnarok-class airship to its personal air-fleet in the last year, going by the pleasant name of _Reaper._ That airship had arrived at the trainyard shortly after the assault, carrying a forensics and clean-up crew to check the train and the trainyard itself over, and to ferry back the strike team, as well as their unexpected extra passenger. 

Thus it was that three hours later, Squall Leonhart, clad in a long black coat better suited to a long-haired angsting samurai bishonen anti-hero, with his brown hair unkept and hanging past his shoulders, and with a silvery metallic bandana running across his forehead, was seated at the head of a table in Galbadia Garden's administrative level. He was surrounded on all sides by his former comrades: Quistis, still shocked to see him alive, Irvine mimicking her expression, Seifer quietly shaking his head and chuckling in disbelief, and Zell grinning exactly like someone who had just found an old friend who he'd thought was dead - which he was. General Randolph was also seated at the table, hovering somewhere between mild surprise and nodding comprehension, and leaning against the wall, all too calmly, was Nash. Seated directly to Squall's right was Rinoa, and no one argued with her spot.

"So, you didn't die," Irvine said, shaking his head. "We never found your corpse when we searched Garden's wreckage, and now I guess I know why? But how?"

"I had to have some sense kicked into me," Squall explained with a chuckle. "I had given up, surrendering to Griever, when I should have been fighting him. And as usual, I didn't realize that until I had it smashed into my skull."

"What, Squall, oblivious to the obvious?" Seifer muttered cynically. "No! Impossible!"

"So, Nash kicked the sense into me and pulled me from the wreckage of Garden as it sank," Squall finished. "He managed to drag me back to shore. From there we made our way to Esthar, where I contacted Laguna, arranged for my eyes to be replaced, and Nash engineered this-" he tapped the metal device on his forehead "-to keep Griever under control. Incidentally, it also blocks out the same mind-controlling signals that the Requiem armor emits, keeping us both from falling under its control."

"Even with the Restrain System in place," Nash added, "Griever's mental abilities are far too strong to fully contain without serious training in focus and discipline."

"I was already disciplined enough through SeeD training, but not as much as I needed," Squall continued. "That was why I studied iajutsu. The art requires more focus and discipline than any other style, which made it easy for me to learn to control Griever."

"But why the disguise?" Quistis asked. "Why did you avoid us? You knew how to contact us, and yet you didn't. Why?"

"I couldn't learn the techniques to suppress Griever overnight," Squall answered. "It took me a long time to gain enough control over him to risk returning to anyone I cared about. That was part of the reason I adopted the Chimera disguise, so could move around fairly undetected, or at least, in a manner that kept you all from trying to locate me."

"Well, that and simple fear," Randolph cut in. "I'd imagine that the idea of having the Chimera himself after you would terrify anyone." Squall nodded.

"That was the other reason I used the Chimera's name," he explained.

"So," Zell said, "if Squall is . . . Y'know, Squall, and not the Chimera, then what happened to the real one?"

"He's still alive," Randolph answered quietly.

"How do you know?" Zell asked.

"Because _I_ am the Chimera."

Silence filled the room as everyone stared at Randolph. The General stared back, meeting each person's gaze with his own honest expression, confirming to each and every one of them that yes, he was speaking the truth.

"Um," Quistis said. "What?"

"The-" Irvine muttered.

"Fuck?" Seifer finished. Everyone turned their attention to him, and then looked around, and the implausible exchange that had occurred, before looking back to Randolph.

"Okay, okay, wait, wait." Seifer said quickly. "Hold on a second. If you're my grandfather, then-"

"What?" Rinoa said, and her question was echoed by the rest of the group around the table.

"Not important right now," Seifer said to them. "If you're my grandfather, and the Chimera, and Squall is your descendant, does that mean . . . we're cousins?"

"Ew," Zell commented.

"No shit, Zell," Seifer added.

"No," Randolph and Nash answered at the same time. The two men glanced to one another, and Randolph nodded.

"The Chimera Project was started by Centra to create the ultimate soldier. I was the most decorated warrior in the Centran army, which was why I was chosen to be the Chimera. Once the necessary genetic augmentations were completed, the same genetic upgrades given to me were implanted within two unborn fetuses. They utilized the "super baby" method of genetic enhancement to cause one twin to have superior genetic structure and superior genes, while the second received the flawed and weaker genes. The superior baby was female, and named Raine Leonhart. The inferior one was Virago Leonhart."

"My mother was the superior one," Squall whispered, and nodded. "That explains so much, now that I think about it . . . ."

"Wait, this all happened before Centra fell," Quistis added. "How are you still alive now?"

"The gene that dictates the end of cellular mitosis and the onset of the symptoms of aging was nullified in the same genetic treatments I and the unborn fetuses received," Randolph explained. "In effect, I stopped aging once the treatments were completed. The children matured until their prime and stopped aging shortly afterward, which means that Squall's mother was in her sixties when she gave birth to him."

"So, we're not related?" Seifer asked, and Randolph shook his head.

"Genetically speaking, my bloodline and the Leonhart family's line are dominated by superior genetic structure that favors superior combat capability and inborn and innate skill at all aspects that revolve around battle. But aside from those genetic similarities, Leonhart and Almasy are not related."

"Good," Seifer said, nodding. "No inbreeding then, great."

"What?" Squall asked, and Seifer blinked, and then looked toward his old rival, suddenly seeming uncertain, a very rare occurrence for him.

"Uh, did I say that out loud?" he asked quietly, and Squall nodded.

"Yes, you _did_," he replied. "What did you mean by that?"

"Squall, dude," Zell said quickly, grinning, "Seifer's boning you daughter."

"_What."_ Squall's response was not a question, but it definitely demanded an answer.

"No, I am not 'boning' Serra!" Seifer responded quickly, defensively.

"Hasn't stopped you from trying," Rinoa commented with a smirk. Squall glanced at her, and then back to Seifer.

"Rinoa, you knew about this?" he asked, and she shrugged and nodded.

"Yes, Squall, I am attracted to your daughter," Seifer said. "The ironies of the situation are _not_ lost on me, I assure you." Seifer crossed his arms and settled back into his chair as Squall looked around the table, and the former SeeD Commander sighed.

"I go and die for a year, and look what happens," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

She was sitting in one of the park benches outside the main Galbadia Garden complex, idly watching the clouds float past, taking a break from her weapons training and studies. She looked peaceful and happy, which was not a sentiment shared by those who recognized how dire the situation was yet becoming. 

Squall walked over to where Serra was sitting, and stopped next to her. She looked up at him, and started slightly, surprised to see him, but settled down when she recognized his features and remembered who he was.

"Hello," she said, a bit uncertain, and Squall knew why. Rinoa had told him that Serra knew about her parentage, so confronting her suddenly with her biological father had probably caught her off guard. He considered that maybe he shouldn't have showed up so suddenly.

"Hello, Serra," he replied with a smile and a nod.

"I heard from Seifer that you were alive," she whispered, and he nodded. "I 'm . . I was sad to hear that you died, and Rinoa told me about you and her being my parents . . . ." she trailed off, and then looked away over the park.

"I'm . . . I'm not sure what's wrong with me," she said, and Squall cocked his head to the side, not understanding.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I . . . I mean, I'm happy that you're alive, and I know that you're my father, but its just that . . . ."

"You don't have any emotional connection," Squall answered, and Serra looked up at him, surprised at how easily he had read her. "You've never known me, at least as a father, so you can't emotionally connect to me. I understand."

"You do?" she asked, and Squall nodded.

"My father, Laguna Loire, I never knew him when I grew up. I never met him as my father until I was seventeen, and up until then I had only known him as a silly soldier I'd encountered in dreams. I had a hard time reconciling the fact that he was my father with his personality and what I knew, and for a few years I felt none of that emotional connection that a child should feel for their parent. There was . . . Nothing there." Squall looked down to Serra.

"You feel the same thing toward me, I suspect. You never had any parents, and grew up on your own. I don't fault you for not feeling for me like a normal child does for normal parents; we haven't had any normal upbringing."

"I suppose you're right," Serra replied.

"But, more than anything else, I think Seifer and Rinoa have had a major role in bringing you into the world," he added. "While you may not have an emotional connection to me, you do to them, whether you realize it or not." She managed a slight smile and nodded.

"Yes, especially Seifer," she replied, looking out over the open expanses of the Garden.

"Are you two . . . ." Squall began to ask, and she managed a laugh.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "We're close, and he's protecting me like a slightly obsessed guardian angel, I think. Its interfering with his work, keeping me safe. I think that's all he really wants to do, ever since he saved me in the prison." Squall nodded.

"Strong bonds form from experiences like that," he explained. "I should know, because Rinoa . . . Your mother and I got together in similar circumstances."

"Then you think we've got the same chances as you two?" Serra asked, looking up at him, and Squall let out a chuckle of amusement.

"You two seem like you would be more stable than me and Rinoa," he said. "And you two have definitely had an easier time getting things started. It helps that you're both open with your feelings and aren't hidden behind shells like I was."

She smiled, and stood up.

"Thank you, Squall," she said, and he nodded.

"Anytime," he replied. "I may not have been able to be there to be your father, but I can still try."

* * *

While Squall's reappearance was a cause for major celebration, within a few hours the gravity of the situation they were in began to creep back into the SeeDs. His timely return had given them a needed boost, however, and when Quistis went over the initial findings from the trainyard incident, she did so with a renewed vigor, not the tired lethargy she had been feeling in the weeks previously. 

While a lot of the findings were inconclusive or confirmed things that they already knew - like the savagery of Illarra while wearing the armor, judging by the shredded corpse of the trainyard's manager - they did find some intelligence regarding contacting additional cells on a few of the corpses. It seemed that Illarra had begun to collapse Crell's carefully-built terror network, mobilizing the soldiers for a major strike, which, in conjunction with the aerosol bomb, boded ill for the rest of the world.

Irvine had also confirmed that Malachi was present at the trainyard, which meant he was working with the Requiem. Since he was the ranking officer remaining in Crell's network, and the normal human terrorists were being slaughtered by their Elemental comrades, that confirmed that the Requiem was now in control of the Elemental forces of Crell's terrorists. Theyw ere still using the same resources and ShadowNet to communicate, as well, which was the only really good news, as they had pierced the network and were using it to hunt the enemy down. Irvine was particularly intent on hunting down the terrorists now; he was listening to the reports from the technicians and hackers working the ShadowNet over with an almost obsessive intensity. Quistis understood why; after the encounter on the train, the sharpshooter wanted to know something - anything - regarding Selphie.

Quistis shook her head. She shouldn't be thinking about that now, but she couldn't help herself. The idea that Selphie of all people was now an enemy agent . . . It was worse than when she thought Squall was the creature driving the Requiem armor.

As she was looking over some of the conclusions regarding the terrorists' identification - almost all of them had been posing as workers at the trainyard up until the strike - Quistis heard the sound of footsteps outside her door, moving quickly. She looked up, and saw one of the technicians open her door, a frantic look on his face that Quistis knew all too well.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, he said quickly "We just picked out and decoded an intercept on the ShadowNet. All of Crell's remaining cells have been ordered to mobilize. There were attached encrypted packets with them; we think they're specific orders for individual units."

"A major strike," Quistis whispered, nodding. "This means that they're about to release the aerosol. Do you have a location and timeframe?"

"Yes ma'am," the technician said. He looked down at the papers he was holding. "The target is Dollet, and from what they're saying . . . ."

The technician paused, and looked back up to Quistis.

"They're going to strike in the next hour."

* * *

The ocean winds carried the scent of the sea past the pair as they stood over Dollet, looking down at the city and the titanic crimson mountain that was Galbadia Garden, docked along the ports. They stared down with idle, detached interest, the little brown-haired girl's hair being played with by the wind, and the tall cloaked figure's apparel billowing in the winds as he idly rested his scythe across his shoulders. 

"So," Hades commented. "We ready to move?"

"We'll wait and see how this plays out," Hyne replied, chuckling to herself. "I'm curious. I want to see who'll win out in the end. Regardless of whoever it is, we'll still turn out victorious anyway."

"Well, Alucard _may_ pop in to cause some trouble, y'know," Hades added, but then shrugged. "But we can take him."

"Indeed," Hyne answered. "But let's just sit back and savor the carnage for now."

"Naturally," Hades finished.

The pair of malevolent Guardians looked down at the city below, and waited for the endgame to begin, for their ultimate dream; their final fantasy to unfold.

* * *

-

* * *

Oy. One of my shortest chapters - barely longer than the prologue :S But enjoyble to read. 

So, yes, I did explain the Chimera's genetic history this chapter, and the final elements of the Metal Gear-style genetic background are revealed. And to perfectly clarify: Squall and Seifer are NOT related or in the same family tree. Raine and Crell got their Chimera genetic treatments while they were unborn fetuses, and that has passed down to their children; Randolph got the original enhancements and became the original Chimera.

In case anyone's confused, Nash was the one who saved Squall, both physically and mentally; he knew Squall was being controlled by Griever, which was the whole point behind that brief scene in "Griever" where he sensed the possession and started running down the hallway. Now that scene makes more sense, doesn't it:P

Until next chapter . . . .


	39. VIII: Flashpoint

**Soundtrack notes:** I would recommend two tracks from FFVIII's own soundtrack here. For the deployment to Dollet, I would use "SeeD" (or whatever that music is that they use during briefings). Then, once the battle begins, switch to "Only a Plank between One and Perdition".

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter 8: Flashpoint**_

"_Attention, all citizens of Dollet,"_ blared the loudspeaker atop the humvee transport as it rolled down the street, flanked by a dozen Dollet soldiers. _"The Dollet Ministry of Defense has issued a decree of martial law inside the city as of this point. All citizens are ordered to stop what you are doing and return to your homes until this order is rescinded. This is for your own safety. Please cooperate with Dollet and SeeD military forces until this situation is resolved. We repeat . . . ."_

"Damn," Zell remarked as he rode in the passenger seat of Irvine's pickup truck. "They got this martial law thing set up _fast._"

"The military and police are already set up to engage martial law at any point, especially with the constant terror attacks," Irvine replied. "But still, I didn't expect them to get the ball rolling quite this fast."

Within fifteen minutes after getting the report that the Requiem was going to strike within the next hour, General Randolph had instantly mobilized the Dollet military garrison inside the city. Troops were now pouring through the streets, gently but urgently dispersing citizens and aggressively searching anyone who looked even remotely suspicious. SeeD had mobilized as well, and the black, blue, and gray uniforms of SeeD troops dotted the swarms of olive-clad Dollet soldiers. Checkpoints were being hastily set up and many soldiers were still mobilizing and receiving orders, but for having only half an hour after their orders had been issued, the Dollet army was moving remarkably swiftly and efficiently.

The pickup drove past a checkpoint and toward the center of the city, where Zell, along with Seifer and Squall, had been tasked with guarding the center of Dollet from Galbadian attack four years ago. Now it had rapidly begun the transformation to a forward command position, with General Randolph and his men setting up defensive positions and circling their humvees and troops, securing the area. Seifer was there as well, giving orders to the few SeeDs present. Quistis was still in Galbadia Garden, issuing hasty orders, and Rinoa had hurried to assemble her gear, and Squall had gone with her. No one was yet certain how their returned friend fit into the rank structure at that point; half of Garden still didn't have any idea he was still alive.

The two SeeDs exited the vehicle and walked through the Dollet soldiers as they hastily set up the command post. They could hear Randolph and Seifer's orders from the center of the plaza, and hurried through the sea of olive uniforms toward the pair.

"Good to see you two," Randolph grunted, peering over a map spread across a table. "We've established martial law across the whole city, though we've only got about ten percent locked down, and those with light forces. We'll need at least another hour to get everyone in place, even with the troops ready to mobilize."

"Got a job for us?" Zell asked, and Randolph nodded toward Seifer. The CITU commander shrugged.

"I'm putting together a quick strike team right now, though at the moment, its just you two and me. We're going to add Squall and Rinoa to the group once they arrive. If we get any word on the bomb's location or the Requiem, we move fast and take them down."

"Sounds good," Irvine replied, and he touched his left breast, remembering the icy pains he had felt. "But we may need more than that, especially after what we saw on that train. If we encounter Selphie or Malachi, or any escorts with the Requiem or the bomb . . . ."

"I've got more troops inbound, but resources are stretched thin," Seifer replied with a helpless shrug.

"What about Nash?" Zell asked, and Seifer shrugged again. The motion was becoming popular.

"Hell if I know," he relied. "I think he's still in Garden, though why I don't know yet. I think he's sticking around Serra, though. I've got a double reinforced SeeD bodyguard detail protecting her, though I should have brought her into the city to keep an eye on her myself."

"Bah, focus on the job, not on her ass, Seifer," Zell muttered, and the CITU commander's face flushed, with either anger or embarrassment. "Let's find this Illarra bitch and tear her head off, what do you say?"

* * *

Rinoa had been given SeeD officer's quarters in Galbadia Garden, which amounted to a small three-room apartment in the officers' dorms complex along the ship's bow. There, she gathered her combat gear and prepared her weapons for battle, and Squall was with her as she did so. 

He watched her practiced hands move over the gunblade, checking, inspecting, and cleaning it with deft precision. Despite the urgency of the situation, Squall couldn't help but watch Rinoa prepare the Revolver for combat, with all the care and understanding that he had offered the blade when it had been his.

That she had taken the gunblade for herself did not bother Squall in the slightest; he understood why she had used it in his absence. The blade had been his personal weapon, built for him and by him, wielded by him in his formative years, and stained with the blood and sweat spilled in all the wars he had fought. The Revolver was not merely a gunblade; it was as much a part of Squall as any of his limbs, and to see Rinoa using it and honoring the weapon as such sent a rush of joy through him. When he had seen her wielding that weapon, Squall had all he could handle with stopping himself from pulling off the wide hat he had worn and scooping her into his arms.

As she was finishing her preparations for combat, Squall reached up and drew the long, slender claymore he now used. He stared down the length of the simple, thin sword, a weapon he had built himself to optimize his capability at iaijutsu. The sword did not have any embellishments, and only a simple, small cross-guard. The only thing notable about the sword was the thin, almost invisible black coating along the edges of the weapon, the ablative grooves that Nash had taught him to incorporate into the weapon, grooves that, when utilized correctly, could channel the energy of a Limit technique into them. Squall remembered the technique he had used to kill Griever in the alternate timeline, and he knew how to focus that power into his weapon, just like Nash could.

"_When we fight Hyne,"_ he had said, and Squall had not argued the "when" part, _"the only question will not be whether we can kill her, but which of us will get to her first."_

Rinoa finished loading the last concussive force shell, and flicked her wrist, causing the oversized revolving chambers to click into place in the gun aspect of the weapon. She looked up at Squall as she set the weapon on her desk, and started to don a black military watchcap to keep her hair under control. He smiled at her, still glad to see her, and then looked to the gunblade for a moment, casting his crimson gaze over it. He opened his mouth to speak, but she reached forward and grasped the weapon's handle. With a quick twist and flip, she gripped the gunblade by its flat and turned the handle to him.

"Just because you lost your eyes, died for a year, and now have glowey cyborg replacements doesn't mean I still can't read you like a book," she said with a smile of her own, and Squall managed a laugh. He reached forward, touching the handle of the gunblade, and gently took the Revolver from her hands. He gripped the handle tightly, feeling the solid weight n his hands, and slowly stood. He took a step back from her, gripping the gunblade in both hands. He raised the weapon into the typical formless guard he preferred. The SeeD waited in that stance for an instant, and then did his personal crossing slash salute, and rested the gunblade on his shoulder, before closing his eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath.

"Its been way too long," he whispered. He opened his eyes, and looked to Rinoa. Mimicking her earlier motion, he flipped the gunblade over, and offered it to her, grip first. Rinoa stood and reached forward, taking the weapon from his hands.

"I'm glad you're using it now," he said to her, and she nodded, slowly sheathing the gunblade and strapping it to her hip and left leg. She picked up her sub-machinegun and slung it over her shoulder, and looked back up to him, even as he sheathed his own claymore. He reached down to pick up his hat, and looked toward her.

Squall Leonhart was a creature of both discipline and impulsive emotion, and at that moment, the latter part of his dual nature struck him. He let the hat drop, and reached forward, pulling Rinoa into his arms, and kissed her.

For an instant, she was frozen, and then reacted, pulling him in, pressing together, in a sudden release of emotion. While the meeting in the grove had been filled with shock and simple, basic joy, this was much more personal, more primal. The pent up desires that they had both felt since that meeting, finally released.

But even as they did so, both realized that they didn't have the time for this. They had to act, to stop Illarra. Passions and rekindled love would have to wait, and at almost the same time, Squall and Rinoa broke off, though both did so very reluctantly.

They pulled apart, and Squall, his eyes still closed, took another deep breath, savoring the moment before going to reenter battle.

Estharian cybernetic eyes had an unusual property: when they detected the eyelids closing, they ceased transmitting visual data, effectively blinding the user of the eyes. Thus it was that whenever his eyes were closed, Squall was blind, and could engage Zanshin sensory perception, and for this reason he could pull his bandana down over his eyes to engage the ability as well. Thus, in that moment, with his eyes closed, he was fully aware of his surroundings.

Rinoa found herself being shoved down to the floor and instant before something shattered through the window, a roaring projectile riding a screaming rocket propellant. Squall's sword flew out, and in a single precise motion, he sliced through the rocket-propelled grenade, severing the detonator from the explosive pack as he spun out of the missile's flight path. The grenade slammed through the door behind them and went careening through the hallways beyond for a few more moments before its fuel died out.

The rest of Galbadia Garden shuddered as a hundred more rocket-propelled grenades slammed into its hull, punching through windows, smashing into exterior buildings, and raising several various kinds of hell. Beyond the roaring rockets, a series of explosions ripped through the city of Dollet, followed by the sudden stuttering cacophony of blazing gunfire.

"What just-"

"They're attacking," Squall grunted, rushing to the window. He could see Dollet soldiers and SeeDs rushing about in the streets of the city, trading gunfire with men in plain clothes, men who were moving and dodging far too quickly to be normal humans.

"Coordinated assault?" Rinoa asked, and Squall shook his head. He rushed back to the desk his hat lay on and scooped it up, and checked his sword. Rinoa nodded, and he suddenly cut past her, rushing to the window.

"Garden's garage is aligned with the docks, right?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, why?" she began to ask, and he spun around and gave her a quick kiss.

"Get moving. I need to get in there, and right now, especially if Illarra is making her move. I don't have time to wait." Squall took a step back, smiled, and then leapt out the window. Rinoa rushed after him,. And saw him plummet down, and jab his left hand out, the armored fingers on the gauntlet digging into the metal of the ship as he descended, slowing his drop. Moments later, Squall hit the deck, and ran toward the garage, now no more than fifty feet away.

He neared the garage, which was open, and several SeeD vehicles were moving out the entrance. Threading his way past them, Squall moved into the garage itself, and rapidly located his motorcycle, transported to Galbadia Garden when the Reaper had brought him and his comrades back. He hopped on board, and inserted a key into the ignition. The armor plated, jet-black bike roared to life, and he gunned the engine. The vehicle rolled out of the garage, and Squall brought it to an abrupt halt as a figure dropped down to the dock before him.

He blinked his cybernetic eyes, and watched as Rinoa jogged forward, sheathing her gunblade. He didn't need to look up to know that she had gouged a crease in the hull of the Garden while falling.

"You think you're going to run off and leave me again like that, and I'll break your kneecaps," she snorted as she hopped onto the bike, threading her hands around his waist. "Elemental or not."

"Fine," Squall said with a smile. "Hold on tight." The engine roared to life once more.

The motorcycle jetted out over the docks, threading between SeeD vehicles, and moved into the city as smoke started to rise from the warzone it was rapidly becoming.

* * *

She didn't remember everything, but the memories were starting to return to her, especially with the mask off, and that familiar voice speaking her name. Now, as she stood in the garage, one of the buildings being used by Crell's remaining insurgents as a safehouse and supply depot, she banished her efforts to remember who that man was, instead focusing on the situation at hand, which involved the rapid number of explosions she had heard outside. 

"The attacks are underway," Malachi reported, walking around one of the vans in the garage, which was hastily being loaded with explosives. "All cells present are engaging the enemy as we speak. Your father's flash-mob assault tactic is working flawlessly."

"Good," Illarra replied as she finished donning a loose gray trenchcoat and put on a pair of sunglasses to cover her gouged eyes. The coat and the glasses would do well to hide her true nature until they were ready to make their move. "And the enemy themselves?"

"All engaged," he answered. "While we won't be completely unnoticed, the enemy's attention is being drawn toward about two hundred separate attacks and shootings across the city against their own forces. Three vans full of ordinary civilians won't be noted."

"Are our escorts ready?" she asked, and Malachi nodded.

"I've got several cars and motorcycles standing by along the way, along with about hundred additional troops on stand-by, ready to provide fire cover from buildings along our route. Once we get the bomb to the central square, we can detonate. The gas should infect over eighty percent of the city's populace in a matter of minutes."

"Timer is rigged as well," came a lighter voice from one of the vans, and the pair turned to see the diminutive form of Selphie Tilmitt round one of the vans. "If we can't get the bomb to the city center, we cans till set it off and take out a large percentage of the city population."

Illarra and Malachi nodded, neither of them considering, or even thinking, of that fact that a few months ago this woman would have been their enemy. Selphie's will was completely slaved toward the Requiem wearer's desire, and only that desire., and had been so since the day Crell had tested the Requiem's ability to control Elementals by capturing her. As long as Illarra lived, Selphie Tilmitt was her slave.

"Let's get moving," Illarra said, and Malachi, Selphie, and the Elemental soldiers present boarded the vans. The garage door slid open as the doors slammed shut and were securely locked, and the three unmarked vans rolled out of the building and into the chaotic streets of Dollet.

* * *

The first warning Seifer, Zell, and Irvine got that the attack was coming was when the eastern side of the city began to roar with the blasts of RPGs being fired. The second warning they got was when an RPG crashed into one of the humvees and blew it and the two soldiers next to it into mist and charred debris. 

"_Arpeegeeeee!"_ came a series of shouts, and the hissing roars of a half-dozen more missiles being loosed in a couple of seconds filled the plaza. Smoke trails criss-crossed over the position as grenades slammed into vehicles and detonated, turning the plaza in a hellish firestorm of burning humvees and flying debris. Dollet soldiers shouted in the swirling chaos, and gunfire erupted even before the last grenades had detonated, troops quickly calling out targets and returning fire.

Irvine, Zell, and Seifer were in the middle of the chaos, the sharpshooter with his rifle in hand and Seifer shouting over a radio at someone. Zell snatched up a radio from a table and put it in his ear, and a stream of shouts and reports, dozens of soldiers all across the city, assaulted his ears even as he became distantly aware that Irvine's rifle was firing behind him.

"_Fireteam Delta we have casualties in checkpoints A-5 through A-7, need medivac-" "Two KIA, vehicles burning, request reinforcements-" "-under fire under fire! Three contacts, second floor-" "-two down, one more escaping into the alley-" "RPG in the hotel down the street, someone take it out-" "Bravo Two-One, contact, taking fire from three unmarked vans with vehicular escorts-"_

Zell blinked, and quickly checked that frequency. He zeroed in on Fireteam Bravo, a unit setting up in the north side of the city, and called up their frequency. He shut out the sounds of battle, which were dying down after the initial RPG blitz.

"Bravo, this is CITU Command, repeat that last," Zell ordered. Seifer looked up at Zell as he said that, frowning for a second, but not protesting Zell's assertion. Battlefield protocol was fine, but they needed to move, _fast_.

"SeeD, this is Bravo Three, we have contact. Three unmarked white vans. Tried to stop them but took fire from unidentified vehicular escorts and hostiles in buildings."

"Where are these vans?" Zell asked quickly, and Seifer took note of that word, and tuned into the frequency.

"North end of the city, near checkpoint B-12. Lost track of them after that, they pulled out fast once the bullets started flying."

"Hold position Bravo," Seifer ordered. "That's our target. Good job." Seifer looked up at Zell and Irvine, who was reloading his rifle. "We got them. Those vans have to be our target."

"Then what the hell just happened?" Irvine asked, and Seifer shook his head.

"Aggressive assault and distraction, nothing more. They're trying to tie up as much of the military as they can. We have to stop them."

"Right on!" Zell said, punching a fist in the air. Irvine nodded as Seifer looked to where Randolph was helping drag a wounded soldier to a medic, even while shouting orders over his radio.

"General, we've got something," Seifer called. Randolph looked up as Seifer hurried over to him. "We've located the aerosol bomb. A convoy of unmarked white vans in the north end of the city, with armed escorts. They fired on a checkpoint and busted through. It has to be them."

"Then all this is simply a distraction," Randolph snarled, and handed the fallen soldier to the care of the medic. He immediately started issuing new orders over the radio. "All units, keep an eye out for three unmarked white vans, with vehicular escort. These are priority targets. Repeat, three unmarked vans with escort, priority targets!" He turned toward Seifer, Irvine, and Zell, only to see them already in motion, running toward Irvine's pickup. Seifer broke off and rushed toward a Dollet soldier standing beside a scout motorcycle, and with a quick gesture of rank, took the soldier's vehicle.

"Arrange some back-up for us!" Seifer ordered as Zell jumped into the pickup's bed and Irvine engaged the engine. "We'll do what we can to take them down ourselves!"

* * *

Serra hadn't been notified of the coming attack, which was understandable; Garden and Dollet had barely had time to mobilize themselves. Thus, she was standing in the central plaza of Galbadia Garden, looking up at the memorial erected in its center, a wrought steel statue showing the combined national symbols of Dollet, Esthar, Galbadia, and Garden, each draped with its respective flag. The structure stood in the center of the pillar of light that shone down in the heart of the Garden, a monument to those who valiantly died that day over a year ago, all fighting for causes they most fervently believed in. 

She wondered how much blood had stained the deck she stood upon, and how many men had died in this one room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she also wondered how many of those men she had killed in her attack.

Then Garden shook, and the vibrations caused Serra to almost lose her balance. She toppled backward, and was caught in a pair of strong arms. She looked up, to see Nash holding her. The scientist helped her stand back up to her feet, even as alarms filled the Garden.

"What happened?" she asked, and he shook his head, and looked around the plaza, as SeeDs started running in all directions.

"They made their move," Nash responded, and Serra blinked.

"Who made their move?' she asked, and he shrugged.

"Not important now. I'm sure Squall can handle it."

Serra frowned, and started to move past him, toward the entrance to Galbadia Garden.

"I'm going to go see-" she began, but Nash's arm shot out and caught her by the elbow, stopping her in her tracks. Serra turned and looked back toward him, and saw a gentle and concerned expression on his normally cold and impassive features.

It was only then that she saw the gunblade strapped to his waist, the exact same design and location as her father's old weapon.

" . . . who are you?" she asked, and he released her arm, closed his eyes, and slowly shook his head.

"A revenant. All that remains of that world that Ultimecia destroyed at Hyne's bidding." Her eyes widened as she caught the meaning in his words.

"You're-"

He opened his eyes, and stared at Serra.

"I am not your father, and you are not my daughter. I was born with the name Squall, but he died when Rinoa died and was replaced by Ultimecia. I am Nash, and everything that has happened in this world for the last hundred years has been my fault."

Serra listened to his confession, uncertain what to say, but riveted to the spot as he continued to explain.

"In the world I came from, Centra had developed the technology to remove aging from the human body. I used that research for myself when I knew that I wouldn't live long enough naturally to kill Hyne or the monster Rinoa had become. And when time was compressed and remade, I was sent to this timeline . . . Only a hundred years ago, to Centra."

"If you were in Centra, and you know the Chimera . . . ."

"Yes. I was the scientist who created the Chimera. I knew who would eventually give birth to Squall Leonhart: the same parent who Centra tested their anti-aging gene treatments on. My mother."

"But why would you do that . . . To your own parents and your family?"

"Why else?" Nash asked, gritting his teeth. The exact same reason I'm here with you. So I can kill Hyne. Either Nash kills her, or Squall does. Either way, Rinoa and my world are avenged."

"Wait," she said as he spoke. "Hyne is going to show up here?"

"Naturally. You don't get it, do you, Serra? Why Hyne wants you? Why you're so important?" He shook his head. "Its pretty simple, isn't it? You were created specifically to absorb magic, Serra. You absorb energy, and for the last four years of your life you've been doing that, gathering magical energy into your body. That's why SeeD can't cast magic anymore; you've drawn so much of it into yourself that normal casting is impossible. You've neared critical mass, Serra, and Hyne knows this."

"You mean I'm-"

"A walking magical time bomb set to blow a hole in the universe straight to Carpasia."

Nash and Serra whirled, and Hyne's giggle filled the suddenly very still plaza.

"Oh yeah, baby," Hades remarked as he stood beside Hyne, grinning like a predator, ready to strike. "Somebody has set you up the bomb, and all your bases _so_ are belong to us."

* * *

-

* * *

Another relatively short chapter, that sets things up for the final confrontations. Not much tos ay about this, though Hades' line at the end came to me out of nowhere, and I knew I had to put it in there . . . because its so _Hades_.

So, anyway. the _real_ battles begin next chapter. So, in that case . . . .

Until next chapter . . . .


	40. IX: Rushdown

**Soundtrack:** For the vehicular portions, I recommend "Chase of the Highway" off the Advent Children soundtrack. For the fight scenes, I'd recommend your choice of combat music, as I really can't decide one for myself.

* * *

_**Chapter 9: Rushdown**_

Ordinarily, the three white vans would be inconspicuous enough, but the fact that one had a gaping hole in the back door and that two black sedans, a black motorcycle, and three burning Dollet humvees were trailing behind it told Zell, Irvine, and Seifer all they needed to know. This was their target, and Irvine and Seifer accelerated their respective vehicles, Zell holding on to the top of the pickup's cab as the truck picked up speed.

It took the enemy all of half a second to spot them in pursuit, and the sedans and motorcycle slowed, positioning themselves to the rear of the vans as they roared down the cobblestone streets.

"Zell!" Irvine shouted out the window of his pickup as they drove toward the fleeing vehicles. His voice was barely audible over the whipping wind. "In the back there's a black tarp! Pull it back!"

"What?" Zell asked rhetorically, but then ducked down. The thunder of Seifer's motorcycle filled the air as he accelerated far faster than Irvine's truck could, and pulled ahead. The enemy motorcycle driver swerved to meet Seifer as Zell grabbed the tarp Irvine mentioned and pulled it back. The brawler suppressed a whistle.

"Looks like something Selphie would be using," he remarked to himself.

"It was supposed to be her birthday present a few months ago," Irvine remarked with all seriousness.

The Elemental on the motorcycle pointed his left hand back at Seifer as he shot ahead, leveling a machine pistol at the CITU commander. The pistol barked, and bullets lanced out at Seifer, smashing into the ground and one round pinging off the armored motorcycle he rode. Gritting his teeth, Seifer ducked down lower to his bike and accelerated, right hand holding the handlebars of his bike while his left drew his saber and readied it at his side. Bullets continued to flash past him as he juked back and forth. A sudden flash of pain bit into his upper left chest, but he banished the pain, ignoring the bullet; it was just a flesh wound. More rounds bounced off the armor, and the terrorist's magazine ran empty. Seifer jumped his bike forward, closing in.

The Elemental dropped the spent weapon and drew a second machine pistol, and started to point it back at Seifer as he edged up on the man's left. Suddenly, Seifer jerked right as the barrel was leveled at him, and his saber flicked across, slicing through the motorcycle's rear tire. The bike jerked and bounced for an instant, slowing down as Seifer accelerated up beside the Elemental, and stabbed his blade into the man's throat. His eyes widened, and Seifer pulled away as the bike went out of control, the terrorist falling from the back of his vehicle. Maroon blood splashed over the cobblestone road as the man hit the pavement, but he managed to live through the rolling impact.

The terrorist stood up shakily, shocked that he was still alive, and then Irvine's pickup plowed him under.

"That's one way to save ammo," Zell remarked from the pickup's bed as he scooped up Irvine's special piece of equipment. He thumbed on the sights, and set the double-barreled rocket launcher on his shoulder as Seifer drove toward the two sedans.

On suddenly cut in its brakes, and shot backward at Seifer. Seifer jerked aside, evading the doubtless painful impact with the vehicle, and drove up on its right side. His bike pounced to the left, and his saber stabbed through the window and into the front passenger's chest. The Elemental howled in pain as Seifer withdrew, purple blood flying from his saber. He shot ahead half a meter, and his sword stabbed down into the front right tire, popping it.

Gunfire from the rear right passenger lanced out at Seifer, and he cut the brakes for an instant, dropping back behind his opponents.

"Seifer, swerve right now!" Irvine's shout came in over Seifer's radio, and he did as suggested, and an instant later a rocket flew past him, heat washing over Seifer's body. The missile slammed into the back of the other, undamaged sedan, blasting it apart in a thunderous flash of light and fire, debris flying everywhere. Seifer drove past the burning, flipping hulk as it shot into the air, lifted up and tossed aside by the detonation.

The damaged sedan tried the braking trick again as Seifer closed in, and he jerked aside once more, coming up on its right side once again to hit the vehicle a second time. This time, however, the rear passenger door swung open as he neared, and slammed into his bike, knocking him across the road. He cursed as he tried to regain control of the bike as it drove onto the sidewalk.

Then a lamppost brought his motorcycle to a sudden, painful stop, and Seifer Almasy was launched headfirst through the windshield of a parked car.

"Ow," Zell remarked as he saw Seifer's impact.

"Dammit, Zell, fire!" Irvine ordered, and Zell shook his head, raised his weapon, and sent a second rocket through the rear of the remaining sedan, with very satisfying results. Irvine bucked his vehicle to the left to get around the flaming wreckage that resulted, and Zell grabbed a second pair of rockets to load into the weapon.

Gunfire erupted from the rear van and Irvin jerked his pickup to the left, and the lead pair of vans shot around a corner. The rear van made to follow suit, but Zell had finished reloading the rocket launcher, and leveled it at the third van. He depressed the trigger, and watched the missile erupt, flashing toward the rear vehicle.

It punched through the rear doors of the van, jetted ahead to the driver's compartment, and detonated in a brilliant yellow fireball. The brawler pumped his fists in the air as the blazing wreckage flew out of control, and Irvine swerved around the corner to pursue the other two vans.

Something burst from the flaming wreckage, blackened, charred skin visible, and dove toward the pickup as it passed the destroyed van. Zell spun around, only to take a flying kick to his chest that launched him backward, out of the pickup's bed, and slamming him into another parked car. He hit the pavement, rocket launcher skidding away across the road, and quickly stood up, shaking his head. He heard boots hit cobblestone pavement ahead of him, and looked up, to see his attacker, shirt and hat burned away and leaving his upper body as a blackened, charred smear of skin and piercing blue eyes.

"Dammit, I knew it was you again," hissed Malachi, as his skin started to slowly heal itself, the charred epidermis turning slate gray as he drew his knife. Zell chuckled, straightening himself and sliding into a guard as he stepped away from the car and circled around Malachi.

"Figures. Guess we can't end this without settling once and for all, huh?" Zell asked.

"I won one, you won one," Malachi replied, flipping the knife over in his hands. "Come on, Dincht. Let's put an end to this."

"Boo-fucking-ya, asshole."

* * *

"_Bitch!"_ Nash screamed as he slammed a fist into the ground, hurling himself toward Hyne, his gunblade drawn in an instant and flaring up with white god-killing light.

"A pleasure to see you too," she remarked, smiling at his single-minded attack. The energy-draining barrier rose in an instant around her small body as Nash shot in. "Hades, take care of Serra."

"Fo' shizzle, my nizzle," Hades replied, and melted away into a pool of blackness. He drifted through the floor and reappeared behind Serra, his face burning away as he rippled up from the pool of darkness, and then took a beam of light to the face as Phoenix objected.

The Guardian reeled backward as Serra spun, drawing and extending her bo staff. Diablos and Phoenix manifested around her, feathery and leathery wings extending from her back, and Hades shook his head.

"Right, forgot," he muttered. "Built-in point defense system. Gotta remember that."

Diablos sent a wave of shadow forth with a sweep of its wing, and Hades bulled straight through it, drawing his scythe off his shoulders. He chuckled as the energy passed over him harmlessly, and his scythe slammed into her staff. Serra blinked in shock as he training took over, spinning the staff over and forcing his scythe down, and then sending it forward into Hades' face. It slammed into his skull, and he took a half-step back, before vanishing into shadow.

"How did-"

"Pu-lease? Death?" Hades said as he reappeared above her, slashing down viciously, only to have his scythe bounce off the protective warding of Diablos' wing. "You think shadow and life-stealing powers will hurt me? Guardian of Death? Nu-uh. Not happening." Her staff met his scythe's haft, and he was shoved backward. His feet skidded along the ground, and he leapt ahead into a spinning scythe slash. Phoenix intercepted, and Diablos shot forward, wing slamming him in the gut and tossing Hades backward.

Nash, meanwhile, saw his flames dissipate before they touched Hyne, but he knew that would happen anyway, and sprang aside, snarling even as he had to break off the attack for an instant. The white light surging around his weapons focused, and he dove in at the small girl, even as she watched him with her typically infuriating detached amusement. The gunblade fell, and slowed as Hyne's barrier sapped away the power behind the swing, despite Nash's healthy enraged roar.

The gunblade slowed, and Hyne hopped back a step, and a silvery strip of metal materialized in her hand. A flick of her wrist opened the Destruction Fan, and Nash halted his forward momentum immediately, remembering the deadly power in that weapon. He began to retreat and come at her from another angle, when Hyne gestured with the fan with an air of absolute boredom.

The floor beneath Nash exploded like a minefield, and the scientist was hurled backward, smashing into the memorial at the center of the courtyard, his skin erupting in intense pain.

Hyne's childish laughter echoed over Hades' battle with Serra, and she floated forward, delicate shoes never touching the floor as she closed in with Nash.

Fires erupted around him, setting the draped flags on the monument ablaze, and the scientist launched himself forward with another inarticulate thunder of pure hatred.

* * *

Zell was gone, but Irvine didn't have time to worry about him. He sped after the two fleeing vans as they swerved through the city streets, cutting around corners and through intersections. Something within him wondered why they were bothering playing the car chase game in the first place, rather than release the gas right away.

They clearly had an objective, an ideal release point, and he would be damned if he's let them drop the bomb there, or anywhere within the city, for that matter.

But then, as was wont to happen in life, the enemy threw a curve ball at him.

The vans thundered toward and intersection and split off, going in opposite directions toward the north and south ends of the city. Irvine was less than a second behind, so he had even less time to consider his options, and, almost instinctively, he turned to the north, pursuing that van.

More gunfire greeted him, and the SeeD cursed as he drew a handgun. He accelerated up on the van's right side, toward the passenger seat, and drove up alongside the vehicle, the superior engine of his pickup easily defeating the larger and slower van.

Of course, the fact that the van was larger gave it an advantage as well, as the driver sent it across the roar, slamming into Irvine's pickup and knocking him across the roar with a screech of metal. Loosing more irreverent curses, Irvine pulled away, tapped the brakes, and changed plans, instead leveling his pistol at the rear passenger tire. The pistol barked, and the tire erupted in a flush of escaping air.

The van jerked toward Irvine's truck, partially due to the disruption of its tire, and partially due to the driver directly attacking him. The sharpshooter tapped the brakes again, letting the van pass before him, and loosed the rest of his weapon's magazine on the rear doors of the van, shattering windows and leaving a nasty series of pockmarks in the back of the vehicle.

"_Kinneas, be advised," _his radio chirped. _"Support incoming. Stand by."_

"Copy," Irvine breathed as he tossed the spent pistol into the passenger seat and grabbed a new one from his coat. He leaned out the window of his truck, looking for a target, when his windshield took on an icy blue hue, and then shattered into a thousand fragments of glass and ice. His eyes widened, and he raised his left hand to shield his face as shards of glass and ice buried into his sleeve and chest, shredding his clothing.

A thousand tiny bites of pain went through his body as he drove after the van, and Irvine then understood why he had instinctively chosen to follow this one. Without any hesitation, the sharpshooter scooped up his Valiant and, with one hand on the steering wheel, he cocked open the chamber of the weapon. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a grenade round and slid it into the weapon as he rounded another corner, doggedly pursuing the van.

Over the rumbling engines and squealing tires, Irvine could heart he sound of rotors overhead.

Bullets bounced off the hood of his truck, but he paid them no mind as he clicked the chamber shut, pulled back the rifle's bolt, and hefted it in his left hand. He leveled the rifle out the front of his broken windshield and fired.

The grenade round lanced forward, smashing into the pavement next to the van, and the deafening explosion sent searing cuts along the length of Selphie's vehicle. It jerked to the side, and icicles formed on all sides of the vehicle, bladed spears that shot back toward Irvine even as he became aware of their presence. He jerked the wheel back and forth, trying to evade the frigid projectiles as they shot past his vehicle, trailing ice crystals and cold magic that washed over his skin.

An icicle spear flew through the broken windshield and lodged into the seat next to the sharpshooter. He didn't even seem to notice as he fought to hang on and avoid being impaled once again.

Then, as the van neared an intersection, and Dollet attack helicopter shot overhead and spun around, facing the van. Instantly, a dozen rockets lanced down into the van's path, and Irvine slammed on his brakes as swerved to the left. Shining balls of yellow-white fire engulfed the van as the missiles hit the pavement, and then Irvine's pickup hit something - debris, another car, he had no idea - and went tumbling through the air, spinning around, and crashed down onto the top of the cab. The truck flew down the street for a moment, rattling and screeching as metal fought against cobblestone pavement, and then the truck came to a dead stop, upside down.

The chopping rotors overhead and the distant gunfire in the city drowned out the poignant silence, and Irvine, hanging upside down in his pickup, looked out the window to see Selphie's van, crumpled, blasted, and slashed by shrapnel, laying on the passenger side, maroon blood leaking out the bottom of it. Shakily, the sharpshooter hit the release for his belt, and dropped onto the roof of his truck's cab. He kicked open the door, almost knocking it off his hinges, and stumbled out of the truck.

"_Kinneas, this is Echo Two-Niner-Niner overhead. We've got you covered,"_ came a voice in his ear, and Irvine nodded, clutching his Valiant tightly in hand as he moved toward the blasted van.

"Echo, hold position," the sharpshooter told the pilot as he edged toward the van. "Let me check the crash-"

The driver-side door was ripped off and launched away, and a slender figure emerged, red blood - the blood of a true Elemental - running from a gash along her forehead. She looked up at Irvine as she climbed out, with icy blue eyes and an unreadable expression.

"_Kinneas, do we engage?"_ came Echo-299, but Irvine didn't answer, instead staring at Selphie's face. Emotions he couldn't identify ran through him as they met eyes, and somewhere, deep down inside him, Irvine knew he wasn't looking at the woman he loved, just a dominated mental puppet of the Requiem armor.

Icicle blades formed around her as she stood atop the van, and then hopped down to the street, nunchaku griped in white-knuckled hands.

"_Kinneas, I repeat, are we clear to engage?"_

Irvine understood what he faced, and he also understood, as he looked at Selphie, that the woman she was was still in there, buried under the Requiem's technology. He remembered what Seifer had said about Squall regaining control during the Griever possession. Selphie, he believed . . . no, _knew_, could be saved just the same.

"_Kinneas, are we clear to engage?"_

Then Irvine saw something on her back, strapped over her shoulder, and he knew why she hadn't leapt out of the van right away after it had been destroyed. He saw the canister strapped to her back, and knew that Selphie Tilmitt now carried the aerosol bomb that could doom the entire city and all of humanity.

"_Sir, are we-"_

"Negative," Irvine muttered into his radio. "Hold position, Echo. I'm taking her down myself." Irvine raised the rifle, and leveled it at Selphie's face.

_Selphie, I'm not going to give up on you. I never will. You've never given up, and I can't either. I'm going to save you, Selphie, no matter what it takes, and at the risk of my own life. But if I have to die . . . ._

"Echo, if I go down," Irvine added. "Engage. Shoot to kill."

"_Copy that."_

* * *

The alarms were roaring in her ears as Quistis stumbled forward, the Garden shaking under a second wave of RPG fire. This barrage was less powerful than the first; clearly the enemy was using hit and fade strategies. She steadied herself and hurried up the corridor, shouting orders into her ear-mounted microphone. Seeds and soldiers ran past her as she neared Galbadia Garden's control center, and moved toward the door.

Her radio chirped, and a new voice cut in.

"_Headmaster Trepe!" _came a SeeD's voice. _"Ma'am, there's something happening in the courtyard!"_

"What?" she asked, stopping and shutting out the klaxons from her mind. "What's happening?"

"_The CITU agent, Nash," _replied the SeeD. _"He's fighting some intruders-" _There was a wash of static that cut over the radio, followed by a distant roar of anger and the raging blast of blazing fire somewhere in the background. _"He's warned us to keep back, something about Hyne, and -"_

"Hyne?" Quistis interrupted. "You said Hyne?"

"_Yes ma'am," _came the SeeD's immediate answer.

"Is one of the intruders a small girl? Brown hair?"

"I think so, yes," came the reply.

"Evacuate the Garden! Do it now!" Quistis ordered. She switched her radio's frequency to the general Garden intercom and cut out all other communications. _"Attention, all SeeD and Dollet military personnel! This is Headmaster Trepe. All personnel are to evacuate Galbadia Garden! This is a direct order! All personnel are to abandon the Garden immediately!"_

As she finished the order, Quistis was nearing the elevators to the first level, and recalled it. It slid up to her level, and the doors began to open, when a hand came down on her shoulder. Quistis spun, and a wave of harmless smoke drifted over her from a pipe.

"My dear Quistis," Alucard remarked, and he grabbed her by the arm. "I'm sorry I don't have time to discuss this with you. This way."

With a sudden tug on her arm, Quistis was moving through a shimmering white portal behind the Guardian, still off-balance by his sudden appearance-

"_HYNE!"_

-and saw Nash shoot past, fires blazing around him as he zig-zagged toward Hyne's position, halfway across the central courtyard of Galbadia Garden. A rush of white light flashed, and the annoyed squeal of pain she head testified to Hades' presence. She looked around the courtyard, still bewildered, and Alucard drew his rapier from whatever pocket dimension he kept it in, and turned to face Hyne.

"Quistis, assist Serra. I shall deal with Hyne," he declared, and vanished, skip-teleporting directly in front of Hyne as Nash bolted in, fires rampaging off his skin. She snapped out her Void fan and flicked it at him, canceling his fires, and spun around the enraged Elemental, slapping him with the Destruction fan. The pulse of annihilation slammed into his flank, and Nash went flying away.

Without missing a beat, the small Guardian whirled on Alucard, waving her Void fan at him. He raised his right hand, sending a pulse of countering energy, the force of life and existence, and the two waves impacted, canceling each other out with not even a whisper of protest. Flying through the anti-climactic impact of opposing energy came Alucard, stabbing his rapier at Hyne's face. Destruction snapped across, parrying the longer blade, and Hyne leapt up into the air with a burst of her hovering power. The Void fan dropped down at Alucard, but with a wave of his right hand he surrounded himself with a shield of existence, once again stopping the attack cold. Rapier stabbed up at Hyne as she floated overhead, but then she dropped back and shot forward, collapsing the Destruction fan into a thin metal strip and jabbing it into his chest.

With a deviously childish smile, Hyne reopened the fan, and Alucard was swept back as a semi-circular wave of annihilation shattered the floor and blasted apart the very air itself. Alucard skidded along the floor many feet away from the blast, shaking his head.

"More formidable than I anticipated," he hissed. "Even with those Death Fans . . . ."

"Indeed, Existence," Hyne answered, hovering close to the ground again, fans by her side. "Come now. Destroy yourself against them, so we can get this last gasp of resistance out of the way, shall we?" Alucard nodded, and readied his weapon.

"I should not have delayed in waiting until you revealed yourself again, Hyne," he muttered to himself, and Hyne shrugged.

"You would have been nullified like all the other Guardians if you had stood against me. But come. Let us put an end to this, once and for all."

Alucard made to reply, but his words were cut off as Hyne was wreathed in flames and Nash leapt in behind her, screaming another inarticulate declaration of his hatred and raising his god-killing blade over his head.

"Excuse me," Hyne hissed, and turned to deal with Nash. Alucard, however, teleported in right as she turned, stabbing viciously.

"No time for civility," he replied as she spun, both fans whirling in a frantic defense. Void silenced Nash and Destruction parried rapier, and then alternated, stopping Alucard's assault for an instant and launching Nash away at the end of another existence-shattering wave of destruction. He fans locked together

"Okay then," Hyne growled, glaring at Alucard with baleful eyes, and then her expression shifted to one of sadistic amusement. "If you want it to be that way, then, let's get downright fucking _brutal."_

Hades, meanwhile, had been caught off-guard when Quistis' whip stabbed into the side of his head. He tore the blade free and melted away, reappearing a safe distance beyond Serra and Quistis' striking range. He glanced between them, and then to the roaring, unsubtle Nash and precise strikes of Alucard against Hyne, and cocked his head to the side.

"You know, I think it says something about the state of the universe and whatever cosmic author is writing this whole thing when the kickass black-cloaked bishonen badass Guardian of Death gets two-on-one action with the hot chicks, one wielding a phallic symbol and the other armed with a whip, while the two old fucks get to double-team the little eight-year old girl. Wouldn't you two agree?"

Quistis and Serra looked at each other for a moment, blinking.

"What?" Quistis asked, having no idea what Hades had just spoken of, and the Guardian of Death sighed.

"Oh, screw it," he said, shaking his head. "Let's just get back to more pointless fight-scene filler and fourth-wall-breaking quips, okay?" He flourished his scythe in a wild, arcing swing. "My name is Hades. You have killed my father. Prepare to die. Well . . . die more than _normal_, anyway."

* * *

The third and final white van had avoided pursuit, for the most part, and had closed in with the central plaza of the city, which was the whole convoy's original destination anyway. Most o the soldiers in the central plaza had departed, pursuing the terrorists who had attacked minutes before, leaving only a small command staff and defense force to protect the command center. They hadn't even been able to put out all the burning humvees yet, which cast the center of the city in a ring of burning vehicles.

Even with their depleted numbers, however, the troops protecting the command post were still alert, well-armed, and ready when the white van careened around the corner. Without a moment's hesitation, four soldiers had leveled rifles at the van and opened fire, rounds tearing through the hood and ripping at the engine. The van burst into flames as rounds pockmarked the vehicle, and the windshield shattered. It swerved wildly out of control and flew off the road, careening into the window a shop down the street and crashing through the glass.

The soldiers had barely any time to begin to report the contact when the rear doors of the van flew open, and Illarra Varines, trenchcoat flying out behind her, emerged from the vehicle and spun on the soldiers. They froze as they saw her, and perceived her poise and control, like a hunting animal stalking its prey.

Then, the hunter pounced, baring its claws, and in half a second, four men were dead, two gutted, another with a blade in his throat, and the last one toppling to the pavement, his helmeted head rolling down the road past her. In a heartbeat, Illarra bolted toward the command post, leaping over a burning vehicle and landing in the midst of the plaza, bloody claws raised as she hit the ground, cackling with insane glee as she searched for more prey. Dozens of soldiers raised weapons: pistols, rifles, even a few rocket launchers, and leveled them at her as she sough the quickest and most efficient path by which to slaughter them all.

"Stand down!" came a sudden order, and she turned, to see one of the soldiers, and officer, advanced toward her, a bayoneted rifle in hand. She frowned as she noted his rank insignia; a General.

"I'll handle this," General Randolph Almasy told his men. "Call in all available forces to converge on this position."

"But sir-" one soldier protested, and was swiftly cut off by Randolph.

"None of you should throw your lives away needlessly fighting this _thing._" He stared hard at Illarra. "None of you can handle it. And you'll just get in my way."

After a few moments more, the soldiers began to fall back, calling for reinforcements, leaving Randolph alone with Illarra.

The grin on her face became a predatory snarl, and Illarra began to crouch, the claws on her forearms pointing out of the trenchcoat's sleeves threateningly, promising pain and spilled blood.

"You must have a death wish," she said, chuckling to herself. Randolph shook his head calmly, not adopting a defensive stance, instead simply holding his rifle in an easy, relaxed pose.

"I simply have to delay you until reinforcements arrive," he replied.

"Reinforcements? Like who? Your soldiers? The Chimera? SeeD?" She barked a laugh. "It doesn't matter who you bring. I'll kill them all just the same . . . But first, I'm going to gut you, old man, for presuming you could even begin to slow me down."

Randolph's chuckle stretched across the distance between them, and Illarra's smirk faltered slightly at the confidence he exuded.

"Perhaps," he answered. "But this 'old man' isn't just any ordinary person. You may be an Elemental, and you may be gifted with Zanshin and the Requiem armor, and you even possess Chimera genes, but you still lack one single, important factor."

"That being?" she asked.

"Your blood, though it is strong, is diluted." Randolph's smile cut into her in that instant. "The simple, undeniable fact is this: you aren't the real thing, just a descendant of the true, original Chimera. A shadow of what he himself is capable of."

"And this matters why?" she asked. Randolph shook his head, as if pitying her.

"You don't get it, do you?" he asked. "You don't understand? You're a lot thicker than Squall, for certain. Disappointing."

He narrowed his eyes, and finally raised his rifle, bayonet extended, toward her.

"You're just a shadow, and you can't hold a candle to the real thing.

"_Me._"

* * *

-

* * *

Yes, another relatively short chapter. I'm not happy about it either, though I did get some inspired Hades dialogue in there :P

Now, the good news is that the next couple of chapters are going to be big. And I mean **big.** As in, true-final-battle big. Yeah, that big. The climax approaches...

Until next chapter...


	41. X: The Chimera

**Soundtrack:** For Randolph and Illarra, I'm recommending "The Raven", a Castlevania 2 remix by Goat on OCRemix. For Squall and Rinoa'sinitial battle with Illarra, "J-E-N-O-V-A" off the Advent Children soundtrack. Once Squall loses it, "Bloody Hell", another Castlevania remix from OCRemix is suggested. And for the battles against Hyne, I'd suggest "Intense Color", a Mario Paint remix (yes. Mario Paint. Listen to it, you'll be amazed.) by Sephire and SGX, once again, from OCRemix. Additionally, my forums now sport a topic with direct links to all the OCRemix tracks I've suggested thus far. Go there if you want to get the inside track on the tracks I've suggested!

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter 10: The Chimera**_

_**I think we've been waiting a bit too long to do this again, don't you agree?** _

Damn straight, Griever. But if you think I'm going to let you take over again, you're dead wrong.

**Indeed. I understand the lengths by which you would go to protect your family. And while I cannot understand that, I can respect your will power. Besides, I find things far more interesting when I simply observe. And regardless, the control system you wear won't let me do anything . . . overt.  
**  
I remember what you did to Rinoa. Don't try that again, or I'll amp up the control system and blot you out completely.

**And conversely deny yourself much of my power**.

If that's how it has to be.

**So be it, Commander. Perhaps we can talk later, when the rest of the universe isn't hanging in the balance and relying on our mutual cooperation?  
**

* * *

"The Chimera?" she asked. "You?" Illarra let out a fit of mocking laughter. "Not possible. I should know, as I descended from him." 

"You descended from the results of his experiments," Randolph replied calmly, staring into her shielded, gouged eyes. "Nothing but a shadow of weakened, diluted genes. I hate to break it to you, but you're nothing but garbage resulting from an ancient experiment."

She glared at him beneath the black shades of her glasses, and walked forward.

"If so," she answered, "then prove it. Prove you are who you say you are."

"Gladly."

The rifle burst, belching flame and steel, and she shot to the left, skipping out of the rifle's line of fire. Randolph tracked her, firing controlled bursts as she skittered across the plaza and leapt atop an intact humvee and dropping behind it. He trained his weapon on the vehicle, and waited patiently.

After a moment, there was a flicker of motion between two of the vehicles, and he turned, tracking her as she ducked behind another armored vehicle. A couple of heartbeats passed, and he stood there, rifle gripped at the ready, sighting his enemy's cover-

A bolt of motion shot over the top of the vehicle and flew toward Randolph. He loosed a single burst, causing her to shift direction slightly, and then Randolph spun the rifle over into a conventional close-quarters grip, and the butt lanced out at her as she closed in. Illarra let out a grunt of pain as the rifle smashed into her forehead, and Randolph chopped across with the bayonet. Illarra blurred backward just as quickly as she had attacked, hopping away from the striking blade, and shot back in again, claws stabbing toward Randolph's chest. The rifle whipped about, the bayonet catching one of her claws and driving it down, while his left hand shot out and caught her right arm, holding it fast . . . for an instant. His arm began to quiver under her raw physical strength as she pushed forward.

"Chimera, huh?" she hissed with a satisfied grin. "Even with the Chimera genes, you've got nothing on me."

"I don't have your raw strength," answered Randolph calmly. "But strength isn't everything."

An instant later, everything blurred as his left arm fully extended, driving her claw away, and shot up into an uppercut against her jaw, while his left leg rose, curled up against his chest, and shot out, slamming her in the breastplate and launching her backward. She skidded along the pavement, armored boots screeching over the cobblestones, and steadied herself in time to twist aside as Randolph's rifle came up and sighted her.

A half-dozen rounds deflected off her chitinous armored plating, tearing through the trenchcoat she wore. Snarling, she shot ahead, sweeping her claws out wide and chopping them together as she came in. the blades flashed together at his chest, but then they only cut through air as he ducked and spun away, bringing his rifle to bear against her again and plugging another burst into her chest from a crouching position. Even as the bullets slammed into hr armor, he shot up out of the crouch with a high rising side kick that impacted solidly against her jaw and sent her spinning away.

"Experience counts just as much as physical power," he added as she rubbed her jaw. An animal growl escaped from her lips as she spat on the pavement, and smirked.

"You really think so?" she asked, and then pounced toward him once again. He snapped up the rifle to fire, but she skittered aside. Randolph spun to track her, only to see her shift directions instantly, juking back toward him and leaping in with her claws extended. He hopped back a step, readying to counter, only to have her cut short the attack and instead skitter aside once more, almost too fast for him to track. She continued rushing about, circling him as he tracked her, waiting for her to strike.

Then, without warning, her claws lanced out. He snapped up the rifle to parry, only to see the blades dropping short, not striking at his body, but instead snapping over the weapon in his hands. Before he could retract his rifle, the blades snared the weapon. With a twist and a flex of her inhuman physical strength, Illarra whirled and tore the rifle from his hands.

Without missing a beat, Randolph fell back another step and drew his heavy knife, sliding into an alternate defensive stance. He wasn't a moment too late, as Illarra wasted no time exploiting the weakness by coming in with a vicious series of jabs and slashes. The knife snapped up and down, metal ringing on metal as he anticipated and picked off her attacks with shocking clarity and speed for someone without junctions or Elemental enhancements.

A claw stabbed in at his face, and he was almost not able to catch it and spin aside, the flat of his knife almost brushing against his skin as the claw cut past. He ducked and lashed out with a foot, slamming her in the chest and forcing her back, and then rushed ahead, launching an aggressive attack that no man in their right mind would initiate with such a disadvantage. But Randolph knew that his defensive stance would not be able to stop her once she got the advantage in this battle, and he pressed the attack, chopping and stabbing aggressively.

Illarra fell- back, claws weaving before her in a defensive stance as Randolph attacked, blades clashing a dozen times in a couple of seconds as he took on the full offensive, surprising her. His knife cut in close, and several times scratched across her armor, seeking any opening to plunge home before she could realign her defenses. But as she set her feet and readied herself, she deflected a stab and saw, an instant before it began, and spinning slash aimed toward her stomach.

The knife came in, and her claws slapped down atop it, knocking it down as her left leg flew across, rocking Randolph in the chin and forcing him back a step. He hopped back immediately, aligning his body to intercept her next strikes, but she was already there, inside his defenses, howling with glee.

Sudden pain flew through his chest, and Randolph was lifted off the ground as Illarra sank both of her claws into his torso and raised him into the air. He stared down at her, open shock on his face at the speed of her attack, and she grinned, raising him up higher as his blood ran down her arms.

"Perhaps you are the Chimera," she hissed. "No normal human could have fought me for that long and that well. For that, I salute you. But now, dear little soldier, its time for you to lay down and die."

Randolph gritted his teeth as his knife fell to the pavement. He managed a wheezing laugh.

"A soldier doesn't just lay down and die," he whispered, and Illarra laughed.

"What can you do now? You're dead, you just haven't realized it yet."

"And that's a good thing, too," whispered the Chimera, and he grinned. His hands suddenly rose, and behind her sunglasses, Illarra's eyebrows rose in surprise.

The pins for a half dozen grenades on Randolph's belt were wrapped around those fingers.

The entire plaza shook a moment later.

* * *

All too often battles are prefaced with commentary and words between the participants, but in this case, there were no words, no declarations, nothing. Irvine told Echo-299 to kill Selphie if he died fighting her, and then they opened up. 

Echo's response had barely cut through his ears when he was diving aside, icicles cutting past his body, slashing through his trenchcoat. The Valiant barked, and Selphie skittered aside, evading the bullets he fired her way, and dove behind the van. Blades of frigid cold gathered over her as she moved, and lanced toward Irvine as he ran across the street, circling around the totaled van. His drew a grenade round and a flame shot round as he circled around the van and rapidly loaded them. He pumped the rifle's action and fired the grenade over the top of the van.

Predictably, Selphie dove aside, out from behind cover as the grenade detonated, blasting part of the van to slag. She spun on Irvine, gesturing toward him and sending out a stream of icicle blades toward him. His flame shot was her answer, and the bolt of napalm that burst forth from his rifle destroyed the icy counter-attack.

She rushed in, loosing more icy projectiles at Irvine, blades and spears raining down from above, and he hopped and skittered as rapidly as he could, looking up as often as he looked at her, even as he sighted her and fired. Selphie ducked and dove aside, evading the rounds. Icy barriers formed in the air between her and Irvine, shattering as he fired into them. Things began to blur together, a raging dance of gunfire, evasion, and icy projectiles stabbing in at him from nearly every angle.

The Valiant's rotating magazine ran empty, and he discarded it, drawing two pistols as Selphie pressed the attack. He ducked for cover behind a parked car, and ice slashed through it, puncturing the engine block and shattering glass, sending shards of intermixed glass and frozen water raining down around him. Moving fast, Irvine rolled around the side of the car, and opened fire with both handguns. Icy barriers intercepted the assault, but Selphie had to focus momentarily on defense rather than offense.

Irvine ran ahead, firing both weapons as he did so, exhausting their magazines, but as he charged in, he leapt up into the air toward Selphie. He smashed through her icy barriers, closed in, and planted a flying kick directly to her face that launched the tiny Elemental backward, sending her rolling over the pavement.

She stood up quickly, new blades and shards of ice gathering around her, rotating and spinning, and solid, flat barriers of frozen water vapor formed up before her. She readied her nunchaku, and Irvine reached into his coat, drawing a pair of MP5Ks, and readied for the next round.

* * *

Alucard had fought Hyne's Death Fans before, but what happened next was something even he wasn't ready for. She fell back a few feet, and suddenly brought both her fans forward, loosing a simultaneous stream of destruction and non-existence at the guardian before her. He responded with a rapid teleport, flashing out of existence above the wave of annihilation, even as the ground and air around him was rent apart. He reappeared before her, slashing down on her with his rapier, only to find the Void fan slapping the slender blade aside. The Destruction fan jabbed ahead, tapping his wrist, and a pulse of destruction flew through the Guardian, rattling his teeth and tearing at the very essence that made up his avatar. Alucard fell back, letting out a rare cry of agony, and Hyne rushed in. 

Or rather, she started to, but Nash proved the stubbornness of the Leonhart line by bolting in and planting a flaming shoulder block across her face and hurling her back. Hyne was sent through the air, but righted herself in mid-flight and shot straight ahead toward the duo. The Elemental roared once more, crying his unending hatred as he loosed flames behind his body, launching himself at her. Alucard, much more quietly and precisely, teleported, flashing into existence beside Hyne and stabbing in. Her fans snapped across, slapping his rapier away, but he faded away before she could counter. Nash, meanwhile, bore in, the ground beneath him becoming semi-molten at the ends of his raging flames. He hurtled toward Hyne, and she turned on him, sending the Void fan flying across. The negative energies sapped the power of his fires for an instant, and she shot toward him and intercepted his attack with a single, brutal slap of the Destruction fan.

Stone shattered, blood erupted from Nash's skin, and he was sent bouncing along the floor away from Hyne.

Alucard reappeared behind her, and she turned on him, countering a burst of existence energy with her Void fan, and meeting his rapier thrust full on, metal fan and slender sword connecting solidly. The tiny girl and the elderly man struggled, pressing their indomitable and supernatural wills against one another for a moment, their opposing forces battling for supremacy. Existence and The End met, and their forces, always equal before, seemed evenly matched now.

But then, slowly but surely, the rapier began to retreat backwards.

"Impossible," Alucard whispered, gritting his teeth and clenching his pipe tightly between his molars. Hyne's insane giggle responded to his denial.

"Temporal mechanics are so interesting," Hyne replied, and then suddenly broke away, disengaging her fan from his blade, and sliding to the side. Overbalanced, Alucard tipped forward for a moment, and started to recover, but then both the Void and Destruction fan slammed into him on opposite sides, and he felt the full weight of the Guardian of The End's insurmountable power coursing through his body.

No more than a dozen meters away, Phoenix struck out at Hades, who melted away, barely evading the beam of holy fire, and Quistis' eye laser technique. He emerged from the ground behind Quistis, scythe chopping down, but she dove forward, beneath the curving blade, and came around with her whip snapping up. The blade buried into his chest, and Hades winced. He melted away again, the blade freeing itself from his incorporeal self.

"This two-on-one action is a lot less cool than I thought it would be," he muttered as he reformed a step ahead of where he had been, now clutching the chain for Quistis' whip in his left hand. He gave a vicious tug with his left arm as his right jabbed at Serra, launching a beam of darkness at her to keep her on the defensive. Diablos manifested to defend against the attack as Quistis was yanked toward Hades, even her strength not able to deny his unearthly power. Rather than fight it, however, Quistis let herself be pulled toward Hades.

His scythe lashed down at her, and she released the whip. The blade descended, and she clapped her hands together over the edge, stopping it cold. Hades blinked as Quistis deflected and stopped his attack, and then stared into her piercing blue eyes.

Beneath her uniform, her taut, toned muscles and the inner power Alucard had granted her pulsed and flexed, and she twisted her hands subtly, exercising a specialized defensive technique that only SeeDs, and a scant few of them, could pull off with their improved physical strength.

Subtle changes of pressure went through the scythe, and as Hades watched, it shattered in Quistis' hands. He blinked as the pieces of his scythe fell to the ground, and looked down at them.

"Well, don't that just beat all," he remarked. Then, with a shrug, he transformed into shadow for an instant, and the shards of his scythe vanished as well. A moment later, he reappeared, his blade totally repaired and intact, and smirked.

"Clever move, honey, but you're dealing with the incarnation of Death here." He brandished the remade scythe. "It'll take more than one ripped-off blade-grasp move to disarm me."

Quistis readied her whip, and Serra held her staff out in a defensive stance, but then Alucard's cry of agony caught Quistis' ears. She turned, looking toward him as he cried out, and then found herself doubling over, her stomach sending rippling waves of pain outward, almost paralyzing her with their intensity.

Hades' satisfied cackle filled her ears, and she heard Serra scream her name.

The Guardian of Death pulled his scythe's blade out of Quistis' stomach, and she fell to the floor, going very still and very cold.

* * *

The motorcycle rumbled to a stop at the edge of the ruined command center. Squall grimaced as he saw the corpses strewn about, several in piles of their own blood. He noted the ripping injuries within the bodies of a trio of the fallen Dollet soldiers, and knew that Illarra had come this way. 

"You ready?" he asked Rinoa, and she nodded. He brought the motorcycle to a complete stop and lowered the kickstand, and they dismounted. Rinoa quietly drew her gunblade as Squall put a hand on his sword. They edged around the ruined perimeter, eyes wary.

The center of the plaza was pockmarked with the shrapnel of multiple grenade detonations, and a fine mist of red filled the air as torn olive green fabric floated through the air. Something drifted past Squall's face, a patch from a uniform, and he reached up, catching it. His blood-red eyes ran over the patch, a rank marker for a general and name insignia.

_Randolph._

Squall closed his eyes, shaking his head. He paused for a moment in reverent silence for the dead, but he knew he had no time to mourn.

"Was that . . . The General's . . . ?" Rinoa asked, and Squall nodded. He glanced back at her, and saw her gripping her gunblade more tightly, face locked in angry indignation. He nodded at her expression, his face telling her in no uncertain terms that they would get revenge.

"Where is Illarra?" Rinoa asked, and Squall shrugged, looking back out over the plaza. He began to say something, but his question was answered as he saw a figure clad in the tatters of a gray trenchcoat limp around the side of the central fountain. He narrowed his eyes as he saw her bleeding, red blood tracing out between the plates of her armor. Her sunglasses were shattered, leaving her gouged eyes visible.

Without a word, Rinoa and Squall stepped forward, splitting apart to flank her as Illarra regarded them with animal hatred. Her claws slid out once more, and she straightened herself, ignoring the obvious injuries that she was suffering. Squall noted a piece of shrapnel from the grenades was imbedded in her lower jaw, and her face was scratched and scarred from the detonation.

"You again," Illarra hissed, and Squall nodded. She still didn't know who he was.

"You aren't the Chimera," she declared. Squall matched his eyes with her nonexistent ones. "Randolph told me, before he died. He blew himself up when he couldn't win. Told me that he couldn't surrender or give up. So, he took his own life. There must be some kind of meaning buried in there somewhere, but whatever it is, I've got no clue, and I don't really care. All I know is that you're a lie."

"That's right, Illarra," Squall answered, walking toward her. "I'm not the Chimera." He spared a quick glance to Rinoa, who looked back and nodded, indicating her readiness.

"Then, if you aren't him, whoa re you?" she asked, and Squall chuckled. He reached up to his hat with his left hand and drew it off, shaking his head as he did so to make his hair fall back and fully illuminate his face.

Silence cut across the plaza, marked only by the burning fires of the destroyed vehicles and the distant gunfire throughout the city.

"Do you understand now?" Rinoa asked suddenly as Illarra stared into his exposed face. "You reacted to Squall's name when I mentioned it. Now you remember why, don't you?"

Illarra slowly looked between them as the final memories of her old life flooded back into her consciousness. She slowly nodded, neither smiling nor frowning, as she recognized the truth.

"I should have known," she whispered. "You were Squall the whole time. So . . . Why are you here?"

"Aside from you committing genocide against humanity?" Squall asked, and he chuckled to himself darkly. "You should have stayed dead when I killed you. You deserved that rest. Now, you're nothing but a corpse revived by perverted technology, with perverted aims. This isn't you, Illarra, and I'm going to return you to that grave and that death you deserved."

"Me? Put me back in my grave?" Illarra smiled, mockingly. "Oh, certainly! You can certainly send me back to death and eternal slumber, if you want." She shrugged, sliding her claws back into their sheaths. "but . . . ."

Then she was _there,_ attacking Squall, claws drawn and stabbing toward his face.

"You'll have to _kill me first!"_

The claymore snapped out, and two solid parries rang in the smoky air as Squall punched out straight ahead, launching her backward. He boots slid over the plaza stonework, and she bolted toward him again, howling with animal fury. Squall raised his blade into a two handed grip at his side, and shot ahead at Illarra. Behind him, Rinoa circled around, flanking Illarra as her claws stabbed toward Squall. His sword whipped across, rapidly parrying her jabs and slashing down in a quick cut at her feet. She jumped back, and whipped around as Rinoa cleaved at her backside with the Revolver. A claw intercepted the slash, ringing solidly in the air, and then Illarra gave ground as Squall spun his sword over his head in a wide, flashing, quick chop at her head.

She leapt backward, hissing, and bolted toward one of the intact humvees. Her claws punched through the armored windshield and driver-side window, and she gripped the support holding up the vehicle's roof. Illarra looked toward Squall, smiled, and her arm whipped forward, and the humvee leapt off the ground and flew toward Squall, a fifteen-ton missile hurtling at him end over end.

The claymore fell back into its sheath even as she was grabbing the humvee, and the vehicle flew in, and then flew apart. Squall's sword was extended as it flashed past him, skipping over the stone and pavement and smashing through the walls of a building behind him.

Or rather, one part of the humvee flew past, and his left hand had shot out and grabbed the second part, the rear half, as it had passed him, and he spun with the vehicle's momentum, coming around and loosing the severed humvee portion at Illarra like a baseball pitcher launching a fastball.

Illarra sprang aside, and the sliced humvee flew past her, deflected off the burning hulk of another vehicle, and smashed into the second story of another building. She bolted forward, and then metal rounded started ricocheting off her armor. Rinoa poured a series of controlled bursts into Illarra, and she snarled before retreating, diving behind another intact humvee.

A flick of Squall's left hand told Rinoa to flank her, and he dashed around the right side of the vehicle, sheathing his blade. As he neared, she jumped over the top of the humvee, screaming like a banshee, and dove toward his position. Squall sidestepped, snapping his sword out of its sheath again as she passed, but she sprang over the attack and ran on, toward the center of the plaza. She leapt atop the statue at the center of the main fountain and hissed as she drove her claws into the stone. An instant later, she spun, reaching up and grabbing the top of the statue. With a vicious pull, she tore it free and launched it at Squall. A rapid sheathing and slashing chopped the statue apart, but as Squall was cutting through it, Illarra dove in, slamming into Squall with a flying kick that launched him a dozen feet backward to crash into the burning wreck of another humvee. He had barely hit when he went into a flip, backwards over the vehicle, using the momentum of his flight to send him to the other side of the destroyed humvee.

She dove through the flames after him, hissing viciously, blades extended.

Sword and claws slammed together, and his hat was blasted off his head. An instant later, his head lurched forward, smashing into Illarra's forehead, and she was sent flying backward over the burning vehicle. He leapt after her.

Illarra hit the ground in a roll and came up to see a gunblade diving for her. She stepped back, claws flashing before her in warding defense, and the Revolver met them, ringing against the blades. Rinoa pressed on, coming out of the cleave with another vicious right to left slash. Illarra ducked beneath the cut and started to rush ahead in a low pair of stabs, but Rinoa's knee was already rising up, intercepting her face and launching Illarra backward.

Squall came in, charging toward her, and Illarra fell back, dashing across the plaza and leaping over a humvee. She stomped down on the hood as she passed it, crumpling it inward and forcing the rear end up in the air, and then whirled, kicking it at Squall.

Without missing a beat, and without even slowing down, Squall sliced the humvee in half, sending it flying to either side, and kept going toward her.

But at that moment, Illarra bolted to the side, circling around Squall even as he had cut through the humvee, and shot toward Rinoa, who was also in pursuit. Rinoa hastily realigned her defenses, coming to a dead stop as Illarra stabbed both blades at her. The Revolver snapped up and across in two rapid-fire parries, and Illarra ducked low, lashing out with a foot. Rinoa leapt back over the attack, and hopped back another step as Illarra came in with another low stab. She followed up with two more vicious cuts, forcing Rinoa back, and came in with a blurring barrage of stabs from multiple angles. The Revolver flashed about brilliantly, ringing repeatedly against Illarra's stabs and cuts, Rinoa parrying with near perfect precision.

But near-perfect wasn't enough.

Rinoa suddenly felt an icy pain cut through her stomach, and she fell back a step as Illarra came in, cackling wildly. The wound wasn't too deep - certainly survivable for a SeeD - but the effect of it on Rinoa gave Illarra the upper hand. She had a new advantage, and she moved to press it as quickly as she could.

Unfortunately, Illarra was aware, academically, of Squall and Rinoa's connection. If she had realized just how close they were, however, she would have known in that instant that hurting Rinoa within Squall's line of sight was the worst tactical blunder she could have ever possibly made.

He saw Rinoa's blood, and the calm, rational man Squall Leonhart was ended up being replaced by the desperate, near-psychotic man he had become when Rinoa had nearly died in space.

"_RINOA!"_

His roar of outrage sent shudders through the stone pavement beneath their feet, and Illarra stopped in mid-strike and whirled, to see Squall reach up and pull down the bandana around his forehead, covering his eyes.

"Rinoa, _get back,_" he declared, with all the gentle kindness of a pissed off hurricane on fire. Rinoa fell away a step, and Squall bolted toward Illarra, no longer a controlled warrior, but a man who had just seen the only woman he had loved bleeding at the hands of his worst enemy. Squall charged after her in a roaring rampage, and it was then that Illarra understood the gravity of the situation.

She was up against a Griever-driven Elemental armed with Zanshin, SeeD training, Chimera genes, a very large sword, and a brand-new, psychotic raging boner of absolute hatred straight out of the depths of hell screaming for her blood.

His sword slammed into Illarra's claws, and the ferocity from the impact launched her across the plaza, her boots digging furrows in the stone as she skidded along. She didn't even stay connected to the ground, not even the friction of her boots on stone keeping her from flying up into the air and slamming through the front window of one of the hotels lining the plaza.

Squall dove after her, with mercy and compassion as the last things on his mind at that moment.

After all, one does _not_ fuck with a lion's family.

* * *

Zell dropped back a step, ducking beneath Malachi's blade. The soldier backed off, circling around Zell, twirling his blade in his hand and chuckling to himself. Zell stared at Malachi for a moment, meeting his eyes, and bolted forward, sliding into a scissor kick that snared the soldier's legs. Malachi let out a yelp of surprise and fell over, but untangled his legs in an instant and rolled away. Zell rose up in pursuit, chasing Malachi with a flying kick that slammed against his forearm. Growling, Malachi stabbed his knife at Zell as he retreated, scoring a slight burst of blood off the brawler's chest. 

Zell paid the cut no mind, instead charging ahead at Malachi, letting out a roar as he advanced. Malachi settled back on his legs, knife at the ready, and hopped back, twisting his body aside as Zell went into an aggressive series of high kicks. His feet swished past Malachi two, three, then four times, and then Zell broke the routine, spinning around low and sweeping at Malachi's feet. The Elemental hopped over the striking leg, and Zell came out of the sweep with a yell and a flying left cross that caught the jumping soldier's in his chest in mid-air. Malachi was launched backward, slamming into the door of a storefront and battering it down.

The soldier's entire body snapped as he kipped up, leaping up to his feet as Zell charged straight through the entrance, leading with another flying kick. Malachi spun aside, left hand flying out and catching Zell's ankle, while his knife cut up, stabbing into the back of Zell's thigh. The brawler roared in pain as Malachi spun around, flexing his muscles and flinging Zell through the store's window, shattering the glass and sending him skittering along the street outside.

"Still sloppy as always," Malachi muttered as he moved back outside. Zell rose, shaking his head, as the soldier advanced, his skin almost completely healed. "And this time you don't have a wrecked jeep to save you, either. Wish I had my sniper rifle, so I could put another bullet into you."

"So," Zell said, touching his chest where he'd been shot. "That was you who shot me?"

"Didn't get as much of you as I'd prefer, but, well, I can make do with cutting you up here and now." Zell chuckled as Malachi closed in, and then turned and bolted down the street. Malachi blinked in surprise at the odd move for the brawler, and moved to pursue, only to stop as Zell neared a lamppost. Barely slowing, Zell sent a spinning kick into its base, and then wrapped his hands around the post. With a powerful heave, the concrete around the base of the metal pole cracked and shattered.

The brawler spun around, raising the post up over his head, and hurled it at Malachi like a spear. Malachi's eyes widened as the metal pole hurtled at him, and he dove aside, barely evading the impromptu projectile.

Zell was right behind the lamppost as it flew past Malachi, and spun into a low kick at the soldier's leg as he rolled aside. Boot met skin and bone, and Malachi let out a pained shout as his thigh cracked and twisted at an unnatural angle. He whipped about on his good leg, slashing across with his knife, but Zell was already springing away, toward the remains of the destroyed van.

Malachi couldn't immediately pursue due to his ravaged leg, but the Elemental treatments started to kick in a moment later, causing the leg to, painfully, snap and twist back into place. He kept his eyes on Zell for the precious few moments he needed to regain his mobility, but Zell didn't return to press the enormous advantage. Malachi was confused by this, until he saw Zell scoop something up from the ground and whirl toward the soldier.

If Zell shouted some triumphant, corny victory line, it was drowned out by the rocket launcher's _whoomph!_ as it fired its remaining rocket, directly at Malachi. The soldier watched the missile close in, but with his destroyed leg, he couldn't evade the rocket. He could only stare helplessly as it flew toward him, crossing the distance between the pair in the blink of an eye.

It impacted just above his upper lip, and while the missile hadn't flown far enough for the warhead to activate, the missile had enough power and force behind it to punch straight through Malachi's face, shatter his skull, and liquefy his entire upper body, before pressing on, striking a parked car, and detonating in a brilliant golden fireball that immolated Malachi's decapitated body.

* * *

She took the offensive at that moment, even as Irvine was readying his MP5Ks. Blades of ice flicked out at Irvine, and he dove aside as they stabbed into the pavement behind him. His weapons fired, the sub-machineguns sending streams of bullets at Selphie, but her icy barriers intercepted the attacks as more spears and blades whipped toward him. The sharpshooter fell back, ducking and weaving, evading the blades with the practiced experience of someone who had done the same in the face of intense gunfire. 

But the Selphie threw a curve ball at Irvine, and suddenly the ground beneath him became slicked over with ice. His boots could not find purchase on the glass-smooth ice beneath his feet, and he found himself unbalanced. He dropped onto his side even as Selphie renewed the ice storm assault, a hail of blades and spears raining down around him. Frigid pain cut through his left arm as a blade penetrated his bicep.

The MP5Ks stuttered return fire, chipping away at the icy barriers, and Irvine saw a flash of blood and heard a squeal of pain from Selphie. He rolled back onto solid, un-frozen pavement as the ice storm abated momentarily, and the sharpshooter saw Selphie clutching her right shoulder, red blood oozing from it. She cast him a look of absolute venom - something she never would have shown if she was in her right mind - and the air around her began to swirl with raging icy power. The air around her became a white cyclone of frozen air and water vapor, a solid barrier of ice that his rounds couldn't penetrate.

Then, in a single roaring motion, a wall of cold erupted from that whirlwind and slammed into Irvine. His entire body went numb, despite the defensive junctions he possessed, and he went rolling down the street. He came to a stop a few moments later, and looked up, trying to move hi numb, unresponsive body, and saw Selphie towering over him, despite her tiny stature. He looked up into those icy blue eyes, and into her daunting, impassive face.

Wordlessly, Selphie raised the nunchaku in her hand, and spun it over her head, ready to strike.

* * *

Squall's left hook came screaming out of hell with the weight of a thousand furies behind it, and crunched into her jaw with force enough to shatter stone into dusty vapor. Illarra flew backward, through the other side of the hotel, and crashed through the wall and back out into the street. Squall was right behind her, snarling as he pursued, claymore whipping about as he dove through the hole she had left in the wall. 

She came in as he burst out of the passage, claws stabbing viciously. His Zanshin sight revealed every path her strikes would take, however, and Squall's sword intercepted her attacks with ruthless precision. The claws rang against the long blade, and he countered with a wide chop. She had to raise both of her blades to intercept,s top,a nd hold the long, slender claymore, and Squall bulled her backwar,d both hands gripping the sword as he used all of his rage-fueled might to overcome Illarra's resistance. She was forced to give ground, rotating around him in the street, and he suddenly broke away, retracting his blade.

Illarra didn't have time to realign her defenses when Squall headbutted her in the chest and sent her flying backward, armored plating crumpling beneath the mighty blow. She was sent bouncing down the street, and the enraged Elemental pursued. By the time Illarra managed to regain her footing and recover, he was right on top of her, sword rising up into the air and coming down in a massive cleave better-suited for a much larger blade. She rolled aside and dove past Squall as the blade slashed into the street like a scalding chainsaw through butter. He tore the blade free with hardly any visible effort and spun on her, scowling behind his silvery bandana. She came around as he chopped across again in a wide cut, dropping beneath his slash. He spun the blade over and used the momentum of the horizontal swing to bring the sword down toward her.

In that moment, Illarra saw an opening. Her claws snapped up, crashing against and over the blade as it fell, stopping it in place and trapping it between her weapons. With a single sudden motion, she snapped her claws in opposite directions, twisting the sword viciously in Squall's hands. Without any warning, it flew out of his grasp and spun into the air.

She dove ahead, but Squall did so as well, not even pausing to look at his sword as it arced into the air. Her claws stabbed toward him, but Squall's arms flew out wide, catching her wrists and stopping the stabs. His left leg roe up and slammed into her chest, shoving her backward, and, in a single motion, he reached up and unstrapped the sword sheath from his chest and pulled it off his back. Illarra bolted toward him again before he could begin to recover the flying blade as it reached the apex of its flight and began to descend.

Her blades dove for his torso, but his gauntleted left hand intercepted the first stab as his right spun the sheath over, looping the strap. He shot ahead, kneeing her in the gut as she made for another vicious stab, and Illarra doubled over for an instant. That instant was all Squall needed to roll around behind her and bring the looped sheath's strap around her neck. He tugged, the strap went taut, and closed over Illarra's windpipe.

She gagged for an instant as the strap of the sheath choked her, but Illarra brought her claws up, slashing the leather cords. They snapped, and she broke free, then whirled on Squall-

-to see him catch the falling sword as it arced down into his palm, and then, in a motion faster than even her Zanshin could follow and anticipate, he sheathed the blade and drew it again, slashing across her chest before she could defend herself.

If she had eyes, Illarra would have blinked. There was no pain, only a sudden and inexplicable weakness in her entire body. She stared at Squall for a moment, and then toppled forward, onto her knees, as she felt the strength leak out of her body.

Something crackled inside of her, and the hatred and rage she had been feeling, the inexplicable urge to kill and murder, began to fade away. She stared up at Squall as he drew the bandana off of his eyes, and turned his crimson gaze down toward her. The animosity and near-psychotic fervor he had shown moments before was gone, replaced by a new look, one of pity and regretful remorse.

She understood. She remembered his expression as she had died the first time, and remembered the serenity she had felt when he had killed her, ending her madness. Now, here, she was once again at that moment of peace, that instance where clarity had finally reached her, and she no longer had to fight and kill.

" . . . Squall . . . ." she began to whisper, but he shook his head.

"This is who you should have been, Illarra," he explained. "But unfortunately, you'll never be able to live as you are now. The Requiem armor is disabled, and its primary systems are destroyed. Yo can't survive without it. I . . . I'm sorry it had to be this way."

"no, Squall," she answered, shaking her head. As he watched, he saw her face light up slightly, and the corners of her mouth tugged into a smile. Not one of malice or sadism, but an honest, serene smile. "I . . . Never got to thank you last time. When you . . . Killed me, I finally knew what peace really was. In those last moments . . . I was happy. You saved me by killing me, Squall. That's all I needed."

She started to tremble as the last strength left her body.

"Squall . . . I . . . You did so much for me . . . ."

He looked down to her corpse, the revived remnants of a tortured, bloody woman, her restored lifeblood running down the vile armor she wore, seeming to purify the machinery, and he closed his eyes.

"You don't need to say anything," he answered.

"Just . . . don't let me . . . become this mon . . . agai . . . ."

Silently, Squall nodded. He sheathed his sword, gripped the handle tightly, and focused.

A poignant stillness filled the empty street, and there was a single motion that split the air.

The clank of the Requiem armor hitting the pavement followed the light, dull thump of Illarra's head, and Squall let out a long, profound sigh of . . . Relief? Exhaustion? Sadness? He couldn't say.

He opened his eyes, looked down at Illarra's brutalized corpse, and then slid his weapon back into its sheath.

"Rest in peace," he said to the still air, and then turned and walked away, letting those words drift in the air to be carried away by the wind.

* * *

The cascading forces of destruction and nothingness ripped apart Alucard from the core of his being, and Hyne enjoyed every second of it. She watched him writhe under the combined power of her Death Fans, his avatar blasted and torn and shredded as existence fought to hold its sway over his body. Glimmering white light burst from his skin, silvery vapors burning into the air, the life-force that drove the Guardian's form released and dissipating. 

As Alucard was being reduced to nothingness, Serra stared at Quistis' limp body, and then turned on Hades. She clenched her teeth as a blinding white-hot rage shot through her. The guardian of Death turned to size her up, and he paused as he witnessed the yellow light, the precursor for a Limit technique, began to surge up around her.

"Oh, that can't be good," he muttered. "Yo! Hyne! You might wanna, y'know, stop fucking up Grandpa over there and have a look at this!"

Hyne took her attention away from Alucard for a moment to size up Serra's changing condition, and the little girl's eyes widened. While she hadn't seen the effects first hand, she knew exactly what Serra's limit was capable of, and as the white light of her rage surged around her, she moved to take action.

_Besides, Alucard's finished; he can't maintain his corporeal form for much longer after eating that much destruction._

"Shut her up before she ruins everything!" Hyne ordered, releasing Alucard from the assault. The Guardian of Existence's cries of agony faded as he dropped to the floor, limp and unmoving.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Stop the god-killing dimensional time bomb before it carves us up like steaks, on it." Hades pointed a hand at Serra as her power continued to build, and sent a stream of life-sapping energy toward her, even as Hyne raised her Void fan and gestured with it, loosing its powerful waves upon Serra.

Shadow and non-existence swept over Serra's white-hot rage, even as she extended her wings and prepared to release her power. For a moment, the blazing power resisted the insidious power of death and void, but even that potent barrier of power began to crumble beneath the steady assault of power Hyne and Hades poured onto Serra.

She screamed, trying to maintain that animal-like level of anger, and maintain her Limit, but she didn't have the training SeeDs had in manipulating their emotions. The instinctive fury was rapidly becoming subsumed by Hyne and Hades' powers, draining her emotions and replacing her anger and rage with exhaustion. Her body began to feel weaker and weaker, and Serra stumbled back, her Limit fading completely under the combined assault of magic from both Guardians.

"Wow, that was kinda . . . Easy," Hades remarked. "Went down without much trouble. Kinda disappointing, y'know?"

"That's the way I'd prefer it," answered Hyne, stalking toward Serra, who tried to fight off the waves of weakness flowing through her as Hades continued his assault. "Hold her in place. This won't take long."

"Easy enough," Hades replied, settling back and continuing his attack, though now with much more boredom and disregard for Serra, only maintaining enough power to keep her weakened and vulnerable.

"Get . . . . Back . . . ." Serra muttered as Hyne closed in, but the guardian of The End didn't even listen to her words. Serra stumbled forward, trying to strike at Hyne with her staff, but a single gesture from the Destruction fan sent a pulse of unmaking through the staff, and it shattered and fell apart in Serra's hands. She stared down at her broken staff blankly, and Hyne floated up in the air before the girl's face.

"Relax, dear Serra," Hyne whispered, edging closer, drawing so near Serra that their faces nearly touched. The Guardian reached out, holding the sides of Serra's face in her hands, and smiled.

"That lovely power you've been hoarding for the last four years is now mine, Serra," Hyne said. "Unfortunately, I cannot merely rip it from you like I could my own powers. So, to that end, I'll need not just your power . . . but _you_."

Serra's eyes widened drowsily, and she started to raise her hands to fend off the coming Guardian, but Hyne's hand pulsed with white light, and her entire body began to glow, a shimmering white force of energy that pulsed and flowed, breaking down and pouring over Serra's body. Hades, realizing that the moment had come, released his life-draining attack, and watched with a malevolent smile as Hyne went about her work, flowing into Serra's body and systematically uprooting her mind and pushing it away, seizing control of her victim.

The white light engulfing Serra steadily faded away, and when it ended, the black-haired girl stood there, shaking for a moment. Hades watched her, and then smiled as she looked up, and a smile that should never have been on Serra's face etched across her features. With a flick of her wrists, the girl manifested the silver and black fans that were Hyne's trademarks.

"Come on, Hades," Serra's mouth moved, but Hyne's voice emerged. "Let's rip the universe a new one."

* * *

-

* * *

Oh noes!

Up next, yes, we have the FINAL CHAPTER. The FINAL BATTLE. Zomg. I'm squealing with joy at the idea of writing it, too!

Until next chapter...


	42. The Final Fantasy

**Soundtrack:** I changed up some things from the list of tracks I included in the direct link topic. Once the heroes arrive in the new location, "Eternal Abyss" is recommended, an Eccoremix off OCRemix. When out heroes fight Hyne the first time, "Dark Conflict", a Perfect dark remix off OCRemix. Hyne's entry into the cathedral should be accompanied by "Darkness Dawning" from Dark Side of Phobos. For the first stage of the final battle, "Advent: One Winged Angel" off the Advent Children soundtrack. And for the last stand, "The Last Summoning" is recommended, an FFX remix off OCRemix. Direct links should be in the forum topic.

* * *

_**Finale: The Final Fantasy**_

"Hm," said the young woman, turning around, stretching her arms out. "This is a mortal body, is it? Inefficient, weak and . . . ." she frowned. "This girl needed to go to the restroom when I possessed her. How annoying."

Hades managed a chuckle as Hyne turned toward him, glaring at him with Serra's eyes.

"Well, then, things are about ready to go, then, right?" she asked, and Hades shrugged.

"Go ahead, Hyne. Do your thing. But, I'd suggest we don't do it here. These people we've been dealing with have an annoying tendency to get back up at inopportune times, y'know."

"Agreed," Hyne replied. "Where to, then?"

"Center of the city would be a good place to make the dramatic destruction of the universe begin, I'd say. Let's roll."

* * *

The nunchaku twirled overhead, and then fell to the pavement beside Selphie as she stared down at Irvine. The sharpshooter looked back up to her, and saw her expression shift, the cold, lifeless demeanor she had exhibited an instant before vanishing into a look of shock and horror. 

"Irvine?" she whispered, and dropped down beside him, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. The sharpshooter blinked, confused, but his confusion melted as he heard her next words.

"Its over," she said, sobbing. "That thing . . . Its dead . . . ."

The instant Irvine understood what she was saying, he wrapped his arms around her, banishing the pain he felt, and pulling her in tight, managing something between a laugh and a sob of joy. She was back; Selphie was back in his hands, and everything was right with the world.

"We won, Selphie," he whispered into her ear. "We made it." Then, as an afterthought, Irvine reached up to his ear and pressed his radio. "Echo, stand down. Its over."

"_Copy that."_

* * *

"So," Hades remarked as he looked around the ruined plaza and burning vehicles. "Whaddya wanna bet that there's a bunch of happy sappy romance things going on as the heroes celebrate their apparent victory?" 

"No bet," Hyne replied, her eyes closed as she focused her energy, and the power that Serra's body contained. "Now quiet. I have to concentrate; the power she acquired over the last four years is even greater than I anticipated."

"Yes, mommy," Hades muttered, crossing his arms and waiting for the next few moments.

* * *

Rinoa had downed a healing potion in the brief time that they had been separated; the wound on her stomach was nearly fully healed. She had followed the trail of destruction, to find Squall walking away from Illarra's beheaded corpse, wiping the slight traces of blood on the blade off with the hem of his coat. 

"Is that it?' she asked as she ran up to him, and he nodded.

"Its over," he finished. "We won." he closed his eyes and shook his head. "But . . . we lost so much putting this to its conclusion." He opened his eyes and looked back to Rinoa, and then sheathed his blade. His right hand reached out toward her. "Let's go home, Rinoa."

"Good idea," she replied, and took his hand in hers.

* * *

"Y'know what would be awesome?" Hades commented as a single mote of light gathered before Serra's body. "If, when we breach the gateway and the barriers, that when the universe gets ripped a new one, when it happens, there isn't some gigantic explosion or some shit. I want the titanic, ultimate sound of the universe's destruction to be . . . a duck _quacking_. Yeah. That sounds about right. A fucking duck. What do you think, Hyne?" 

She didn't answer, and Hades went back to his bored musings.

* * *

Hades' scythe may have been powerful and sharp as a razor, but as Quistis managed a cough as she lay in a pool of her own blood, it turned out that it wasn't as powerful or deadly as one would expect. 

The warmth slowly returned to her extremities as the power Alucard had infused her with started to heal her wounds. The rip in her stomach sealed, her blood regenerating, and she slowly stood up, the front of her uniform soaked blood-red. She looked around the interior of Galbadia Garden, and saw Nash on the other side of the courtyard, struggling to get up and cursing to himself. Hyne and Hades were nowhere to be found, and neither was Serra.

A groan behind her caught her attention, and Quistis turned, to see Alucard slumped against the burnt monument, silvery light erupting from a dozen fissures in his skin, floating into the air and vanishing. He looked to Quistis, and raised a hand weakly toward her. With a sudden surge of energy, she ran over to his side, kneeling beside the blasted Guardian, grasping his hand tightly.

"What happened?" she asked, and Alucard coughed, silver light escaping his mouth as he did so, as if coughing up blood.

"They took her," whispered Alucard through a hoarse tone of voice. "Hades and Hyne have Serra . . . And they're going to use her to open the gateway . . . ."

"You mean-" Quistis began to say, and Alucard nodded sharply.

"It has . . . Begun . . . ." He coughed again. "The end . . . Hyne's Final Fantasy . . . ."

"We have to stop her," Quistis said, and Alucard nodded.

"She has gone . . . far from here. But You can still defeat her. You must be ready . . . for even in the heart of the city of dreams, she can be stopped. She must not . . . reach . . . Morpheus' Cathedral. The pool she desires . . . Zurvan resides in that structure. She cannot reach it."

He paused, and closed his eyes.

"You survived Time Compression," he whispered. "You can survive the transit to the city when Hyne opens the gateway . . . but you cannot defeat her as you are."

"I'm not going to just lay down and let her destroy existence," Quistis replied, and Alucard nodded.

"You would be like . . . throwing stones at a speeding train to her as she is. Even together, you are no match for her. The only thing that can stop her now is something more powerful than creation, or the end . . . ."

He suddenly opened his eyes, and his fingers tightened around her hand.

"Quistis. I cannot let myself pass yet. Not without . . . ." he stopped, closing his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I must admit this to you, my dear Quitis. When we ought, I did not abandon you because I thought you deserved destruction. I abandned you because I thought you betrayed me. Because, Quistis . . . I loved you, and I still do."

She stared down at him, at a shocked loss for words. Not waiting for her to say anything, he grasped her hand even more tightly.

"You _must_ stop her. I cannot remain in this form; I am dying, and it would be millennia before I would reappear. I cannot wait that long . . . And so, I must ask this of you, my dear Quistis."

He planted her hand against his chest, silver light playing over her fingers.

"The Unbound operate differently from normal Guardians. We still follow some of the same tenets, but we do things differently when that happens. Thus, Quistis, I grant you the same status that the Bound you junction now grant you, but the consequences are far greater than mere physical strength.

"Draw the Unbound," he whispered. "Junction the Unbound.

"_Become _the Unbound."

* * *

"Gettin' _bored,"_ Hades muttered to himself. "I need something to kill, dammit." He rocked back and forth, tapping his foot impatiently, and looked back to Hyne in Serra's body. The girl's features contorted, and the intensity of the small orb of light began to grow. 

Then, without any further warning, the ball exploded, and a shuddering vortex rippled out from where Hyne stood, a white swirl of destruction that unleash a strange, high-pitched and distorted _waaak_ sound.

"_Dude!" _Hades shouted, pointing even as the wave rushed outward, blasting a hole in the universe. "Holy _fuck! _It _is_ a duck quacking! Son of a bitch! I knew it! _I knew it!_ That is _so fucking awesome!"_

* * *

Squall stood with Rinoa, holding her hand, and stared at the center of the city. The closest to the epicenter of the release of Serra's power, both of them saw the pulse of light rush outward toward them, engulfing them even as they pulled each other close.

* * *

Irvine and Selphie were still hugging and laughing, the sound of the helicopter's rotors fading away as it withdrew. They pulled back, and stared into each other's faces, and then were swept away in the white light surging from the center of the city.

* * *

"Suck it, beeches!" Zell shouted, pumping his fist in the air and doing a victory jig in the middle of the street over Malachi's charred remains. "Oh yeah! That is Zell Dincht who just kicked your ass, baby! Yeah! Booya in yo' face!"

Zell's impromptu endzone victory dance was rudely interrupted by a tidal wave of white light.

* * *

Seifer Almasy's feet were sticking out the windshield of a parked car. They were engulfed by white light.

* * *

"Hyne! Dammit!" Nash shouted, punching the floor. He looked around the courtyard, and spotted Quistis kneeling over Alucard, her hand on his chest, and what looked like blue and purple light cascading between them. His eyes widened as he realized exactly what was happening, and opened his mouth to speak, his all-consuming anger at Hyne momentarily forgotten.

But then the wave of white light swept over them all, and they plunged into an abyss that seemed to have no depth, no ending, no boundaries . . . the endless depths of time itself, and everyone held on as tightly as they could. However, only a select few survived; onlythose who had the strength of will and the experience involved in such a temporal transit remained when the surge of light carried them to their ultimate destination.

* * *

"Son of a _bitch._"

Seifer shook his head, wondering what the hell had just happened, and why everything was so dark. He pushed himself up off the ground, his palms pressing against cold stonework, and looked up. He'd had some insane, crazy dream, of floating and flying and fire and swirling around in a strange vertigo. His last memories were of flying through a car windshield, and now he . . . .

"Whoa."

Seifer turned, looking up and around him, at the nearly lightless surroundings he was immersed in. Buildings, seeming to have leapt from the pages of an ancient history book, loomed up around the small plaza he stood in, faintly illuminated by thousands of tiny pinpricks of light swirling through the streets and avenues, like lost souls floating on some non-existent wind. They drifted among and around him, floating like a gently flowing stream, passing into doorways and out of windows, a never-ending tide of miniscule mites of light. The sky above was an overcast gray, a swirling depth of endless, formless time, flowing in a sublime, almost casual chaos above. Aside from the flowing lights and the swirling sky, there was nothing moving, and absolute stillness in the strange city he awoke in.

With a chill, Seifer suddenly remembered what Alucard had spoken of, long ago, during the briefing before they battled Crell's armies.

"Carpasia," he whispered. The city of dreams, the place Hyne was seeking.

"Okay, this changes _everything_," Seifer muttered, and he could not have been more correct.

* * *

He turned, looking around the city, his hand no longer grasping Rinoa's. His crimson gaze fell across the city, stretching before him, as he stood atop a high tower along the edge of the metropolis. The vast, darkened city stretched out before him, a massive metropolis of ancient buildings, shrouded in darkness and lit only by the rivers of light flowing silently and serenely through the streets. Tall towers dotted the vast city as it floated in the void of gray time, sealed away from the mortal world. 

_This is . . . ._

_**Carpasia, Squall.**_

_What are we doing here?_

_**Hyne has breached the gates of existence, and here we stand, on the edge of the end all things. Look, ahead.**_

Squall turned his eyes upward, and saw the vast crenellations of a structure in the center of the city, a mighty cathedral that would have dwarfed even the Presidential Palace in Esthar. Glimmering blue and gold lights drifted among the towers and buttresses of the ancient structure, and the river of light flowed and danced and swirled around the central structure.

_**Morpheus' Cathedral. Home of the Zurvan Pool, the force that grants any wish to the one who bathes in its waters. That is Hyne's ultimate goal. **_

_The ultimate goal of all Guardians, you mean._

_**Please, Squall. I wouldn't enjoy a world where all that exists is pain and suffering. I far prefer to let people have their joys and happiness, to make that pain I inflict so much more powerful.**_

_You expect me to believe you?_

_**No. But you don't have any other choice. Hyne will travel to that cathedral, she will bathe in the pool, and everything will end. I trust you to make the proper decision in regards to this knowledge.**_

_. . . Fine then. Let's go._

Squall Leonhart stepped off the tower and plunged down into the streets below, and began the hunt.

* * *

"Carpasia," Nash hissed as he stood atop the roof of a structure far away from Squall, and surveyed the city. "This is the City of Dreams . . . ." 

Fire swirled around him for a moment, simmering around his feet.

"Garden, Carpasia, Dollet, whatever," he muttered, fingers tightening around his gunblade. "It doesn't matter where you go to, Hyne. I'm going to track you down and destroy you, no matter how powerful you are."

He stepped forward, off the roof, and plunged into the river of twinkling lights, and charged off through the city, the motes of illumination twirling in his wake.

* * *

"So . . . This is it, then," she whispered, looking out over the city before her. She closed her eyes, and shook her head. 

_This was your city, Alucard. Incredible . . . ._

Quistis opened her eyes, and looked out over the city, and sensed the threads of fate weaving and flowing throughout this city, and knew where they would intertwine.

Slowly, deliberately, she raised the pipe - _his_ pipe - to her mouth, puffed on it, and vanished.

* * *

"Squall?" Rinoa called. She turned around, looking up and down the street, disoriented. The lights flowed around and over her as she searched the environment, and drew her gunblade. 

"Squall!" she shouted.

"Rinoa?" came a call, behind her, and she turned, to see Zell run around a corner in the street. He moved through the waves of glimmering lights and rushed up to her.

"Rinoa, the hell is going on here?"

"No idea," answered the woman, and she looked around once more. "But this place . . . There's only one thing I can think of it being."

"That 'City of Insomnia' or something, yeah," Zell replied. "And if we're here, then that means Hyne must have . . . ."

"Hyne . . ." Rinoa whispered, and her eyes widened. "Serra!"

"Shit!" Zell hissed. "That's right! Alucard said she was the key to opening the gateway!"

"If that _bitch_ did anything to our daughter," Rinoa growled, clenching her gunblade tightly.

"Damn straight, Rinoa," Zell replied. "Let's find that bitch and rip her a new one." He paused. "But, uhh, where is she?"

"I think that over there looks important," Rinoa replied, pointing over the rooftop of one of the buildings, at a towering cathedral rising above them.

"As good a place as any," Zell replied. "Let's go."

* * *

"Wait, where are we again?" Irvine asked. Selphie closed her eyes, thinking. 

"Shiva . . . She says it's the City of Dreams, Carpasia. And if we're here, then Hyne must have managed to pull off whatever it was she was planning."

"Not yet," Irvine responded, shaking his head, as he looked around the plaza they stood in. he reached up, touching his ear, and the radio placed there, but it was dead. He drew his Valiant and checked it, to see the rifle was in working condition. "It looks like we're alone. I guess that means its up to us to put a stop to Hyne and Hades, then."

"Right," Selphie replied, nodding. She clenched her nunchaku tightly. "But if Hyne opened the gateway, then that means Serra . . . ."

"Can't worry about that now," Irvine said, his voice tightly controlled. "We have to focus on the mission: we have to stop Hyne."

"Right," Selphie said again. "Shiva is saying to head for . . . A cathedral. That's Hyne's goal."

"And where is this cathedral?" Selphie closed her eyes, and turned slowly, and then nodded.

"This way."

* * *

Boots resounded along the darkened streets of Carpasia, and Seifer's long coat flew out behind him, disturbing the glimmering lights dancing among the streets. 

Something, instinct, his gut feelings - _Chimera genes?_ - was telling him that they were on the edge of something apocalyptic, and he didn't need the memories of Alucard's dire warnings to spur him on.

Somewhere, deep inside the battered, weathered knight, something told him that Serra was in danger, and that thought spurred him on even more than any need to save existence.

He did not realize it, but the course he was plying led to the heart of the city, closer and closer to Morpheus' Cathedral, where all other threads of fate were converging.

* * *

Rinoa heard the pair moving through the streets, and as they cut through an intersection in the empty city, she dimly saw Irvine and Selphie rushing through the stream of lights. She quickly called out their names, and they slowed, stopping at the intersection. Rinoa and Zell caught up with them, and the quartet exchanged what little they knew. 

"Shiva says to head for the cathedral," Selphie told the others, and Rinoa and Zell nodded. Their instincts had been right. Without another word, the quartet of SeeDs turned and rushed off, following Selphie as she threaded through the streets, guided by Shiva on their route.

Moments later, as they delved through the avenues, surrounded by the unending dance of light and impenetrable darkness, they stepped out into another wide plaza, dominated by a single tall obelisk, that stood before a long, wide street running through the heart of the city.

In the distance, the quartet could see Morpheus' Cathedral, rising up over the city, at the end of that road.

"That's it," Selphie whispered, and the others nodded. The started to move past the vast obelisk, when cold dread shot through all four SeeDs.

As one, they turned, Rinoa readying her gunblade, Irvine raising his rifle, Zell sliding into a guard, and Selphie gripping her nunchaku. An instant later, those weapons wavered as they realized what they faced.

"Yo," Hades called, scythe balanced across his shoulders. He waved jauntily with one hand, but no one paid the Guardian any mind, their eyes instead fixed on the woman beside him. They recognized her features, her hair, the wings stretching from her back, but the strips of metal she grasped in her hands, and the sinister smile on her face, were not anything she would have ever possessed.

"Serra," Rinoa breathed, and the girl shook her head, giggling with an unearthly voice, that of the monster within her body.

"In the flesh, yes," she answered. "But if you want to get technical, no."

"Hyne," Selphie whispered, and she nodded.

"What can I say? I needed this girl's body to fuel my entrance into Carpasia, using the power she possessed. You really should have let Alucard kill her when he had the chance, you know. But now, she serves me no more purpose. Well, actually, she does . . . ."

"Gotta love a good meat shield," Hades added, and Hyne nodded.

Silence filled the empty street or several long, agonizing moments.

The Revolver rose up suddenly, and Rinoa slid into a guard, ready for combat.

"If she could speak, she would tell us to strike, without hesitation," Rinoa declared, steeling herself. "I know my daughter. She wouldn't care if she died. Serra would fight you to the death, and we're not going to let you enter that cathedral without a fight!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Right on!"

"Booya, bitch!"

Hyne sighed, and glanced to Hades, who stretched out, popped his neck, and slid the scythe off his back.

"What can I say?" he muttered. "Gotta expect some speed bumps along the road to ultimate annihilation, eh?" He spun his scythe around, and held it at the ready. "Let's dance, compadres."

Zell launched himself at Hyne in an instant, shooting toward her with flying kick. Hades dove into his path, intercepting the kick, Zell's foot slamming into his scythe. Hades lifted up and tossed Zell backward, but the brawler backflipped in mid-air and came around in a hard kick that slammed Hades in his face. The Guardian was pitched backward, and he burned away his skin in response, revealing his fire-blackened visage. Zell hit the ground and dove at Hades.

A storm of ice rushed in at Hyne, only to slow as it neared her body. She calmly extended her Death Fans as Rinoa chased after Selphie's ice, and Irvine loaded his rifle with the few rounds of Pulse ammunition he had on hand. The Revolver dove at Hyne in a vicious cleave, and crashed against Hyne's destruction fan as she casually deflected the attack. With deft ease, Hyne spun the Revolver over, exhibiting shocking strength, and jabbed her Void fan into the opening presented in Rinoa's defense. Her life force was sapped, and she fell away, gasping in shock.

A fullisade of ice spears dove in at Hyne's grinning visage, and began to break apart on contact with her barrier. She swept the Destruction fan across, blasting them to nothingness, and focused on Selphie. Irvine leveled his Valiant at Hyne and depressed the trigger as she advanced on Selphie. The rifle shuddered and shook, and Irvine held his arms steady. A column of white destruction leapt forth at Hyne, roaring toward her-

-and it died with a gesture of her Void fan. She cast a mocking sneer Irvine's way, and turned on Selphie once more.

Zell sent a brutal right hook at Hades' face, but the Guardian vanished, melting away and reappearing behind Zell. The brawler whirled, coming across in a high right kick that caught Hades across the jaw and spun him around. The Guardian twirled about, dancing on one leg as if the blow had barely fazed him, and slashed across with his scythe faster than Zell could follow. The brawler pitched himself back instinctively, but his chest erupted with pain as the blade cut a shallow wound.

Then Hades was gone, and appeared behind Selphie in a gate of black shadow, scythe raised.

Irvine whirled, stabbed at the Guardian with his rifle, and discharged a round of pulse ammunition right in his face. Hades was not appreciative of the gesture, as he was launched backward, robes smoking. Selphie formed up a powerful stream of ice magic and loosed it at Hyne as she advanced, but the ice died and faded against her energy-sapping aura. With a sadistic grin that spoke "my turn now," Hyne raised her Destruction fan and swept it out t Selphie.

The tiny SeeD screamed as blood burst from her chest and stomach, her skin ruptured by the wave of destruction, and she was pitched back onto the ground. Irvine looked down at her, and turned toward Hyne, screaming in outrage. His valiant dropped to the ground, and he rapidly drew his MP5Ks as amber light gathered around his body. Time began to slow for the sharpshooter, and he ran toward Hyne, weapons raised and sighting her in the sub-machineguns' crosshairs.

Then shadow pooled befor ehim,a nd hades appeared, toothy smile clearly visible as he jabbed a hand into Irvine's chest and sent a wave of death through his body. The sharpshooter fell backward, screaming in agony, and toppled to the ground, his strength stolen by Hades' sudden attack. Hyne nodded her approval, and then turned toward Zell as the brawler reentered the battle, roaring as always, fist cocked back to shatter whatever stood in his way.

Zell's fist couldn't shatter through the power of Hyne's Void fan, and he stumbled forward, his energy stolen in an instant, and Hyne slapped him across the face with her Destruction fan, blasting him viciously and launching the brawler across the plaza.

As Zell fell away, however, Rinoa returned to the battle, chopping once more at Hyne's face. She turned on Rinoa, Void rising an intercepting the gunblade. Destruction jabbed into her stomach and pulsed, blasting Rinoa backwards. She fell away, blood staining the front of her uniform, and she looked up toward Serra's face.

Hades watched the battle progress, arms crossed, and then pitched forward as Irvine emptied the chambers of one of his revolvers into his back. He turned, snarling, as Irvine started to rise, and put the SeeD back in his place with a rapid stream of Demi spells. Irvine writhed n the ground in agony, his revolver dropping to the pavement, and Hades turned back to Hyne.

Rinoa realized that she couldn't stop Hyne. The Guardians' power was like nothing she had ever seen before; not even Ultimecia could match this level of strength they exhibited. But where she couldn't win through force of arms, she could try another avenue of attack.

"Serra!" Rinoa called. "Serra! Fight her! Fight her like your father fought Griever!"

Hyne managed a chuckle at Rinoa's words, and walked toward her. She retracted her Void fan, and it vanished, and she grabbed Rinoa by the throat.

"This body is mine, stupid girl," Hyne hissed. "Her spirit cannot break free of my control. Your entreaties to her spirit are as noth . . . ." Hyne paused, her face contorting, softening, and Rinoa stared into eyes that suddenly, for an instant, did not show Hyne's cruelty and malice.

"Serra!" Rinoa screamed, but then her features hardened again, Hyne reestablishing dominance and sneering.

"She is mine! She always was, from the moment I killed her in your womb! Serra was my weapon from that moment on!"

"No!" Rinoa shouted, but Hyne then released her and slammed her across the face, hard, with her Destruction fan. The stone beneath Rinoa shattered, and she was hurled across the plaza, blood leaking from her mouth and nose, and crashed into the obelisk at the center of the plaza. Hyne sglared at the fallen woman, and then turned toward Hades.

"Clean up this mess, and make sure they don't interfere," she ordered him, and he shrugged and nodded. Hyne strode past Hades and the fallen, battered SeeD, and moved on toward the cathedral. He watched her depart to finish the task they had been waiting to begin for untold millennia, and then turned back toward the fallen SeeDs.

Zell started to rise up, but Hades jabbed the haft of his scythe into his stomach.

"Sit down, bitch," he snarled, and kicked the brawler in the face. Hades turned, surveying the SeeDs, and considered which one to kill first. He set the scythe across his shoulder, and rubbed his bony chin, deep in thought.

Finally, he turned on Rinoa, walked across the plaza, and stood over her.

"You know, I'll do you the honors of a quick death first, hon," he said, lifting his scythe. "You did give me a good feel with your tits, after all."

In a sudden burst of energy, Rinoa shot her leg up, and it slammed between his robed legs. Hades stood stock-still for a moment, and then bent over slightly.

"Oh, shit, _right_ in the Dynamic Duo . . . ." he whined, stumbling away for a moment. He clutched his battered privates, and slowly turned back toward Rinoa. "Oh, that is _it_. _No one_ kicks the Guardian of Death in the nuts and gets away with it!"

* * *

Perhaps it was fate, but as they ran through the streets in the city that existed beyond time, the two men who had both borne the name Squall Leonhart found themselves along an intersecting path. Hailing from different worlds, different times, and different lives, the two men, one centuries old, and the other barely in his twenties, charged through the streets. Neither man spoke to the other upon contact, but instead simply turned and charged along the roads leading to the heart of Carpasia. 

Both men were driven to extremes, that was no question, but what they were driven by was far different; one Squall was fighting to save existence and his family, and everything he loved, while the other was fighting out of revenge for losing that which he loved. Those two desires, vengeance and selfless love, burned within the hearts of two men who bore the same name.

They were so similar, yet so different. Yet, despite their vast differences, one thing solidly beat within their heart, one thing that would not be stopped by anything, by heaven, hell, or even death: their hearts were filled with raging determination, to see this war out to the very bitter end.

Squall drew his sword. Squall channeled his emotions and power into his sword. Squall focused his power, refining it, and concentrated it. Squall's blade erupted in brilliant multicolored light, the god-killing light that he had perfected for the ultimate goal of killing Hyne.

Squall Leonhart burst out of the city streets of Carpasia, and charged into the plaza where four fallen SeeDs lay, Hades towering over Rinoa, with his scythe at the ready. The Guardian, despite being so focused on Rinoa, sensed the enemy approaching, and whirled to face the two Squalls as they thundered into the plaza, roaring like the lions they were named for.

Hades saw them charge, and he saw into their eyes, and he knew, in that instant, that he was so absolutely _screwed._

"Oh, _fuckberries-_"

Nash went high.

Squall went low.

Hades went into three different pieces, burning away in an instant in a tower of shimmering white light, his scythe blasted apart. He vanished an instant later, his body burned away by the combined wrath of two god-killing blades and the refined power of Squall's Limit technique.

* * *

Hades was dead, or as dead as a Guardian got, and Squall knelt beside Rinoa, cradling her in his arms. She wasn't dead, and her wounds looked survivable, but that did nothing to sate Squall's rising hatred. 

"Rinoa . . . "he whispered, and she managed a smile. She reached up to his face, and brushed his beard with her head.

"Hyne . . . She has Serra," Rinoa told him quietly, weakly. "We couldn't stop her . . . ."

"If that's the case, she shouldn't be too far ahead," Nash muttered, walking around them and moving toward the cathedral. "We can't delay too much longer, Squall."

"I know," he answered, and looked back to Rinoa. "Rinoa . . . Don't worry."

"What are you . . . going to do?" she asked him as he gently set her back down on the ground.

"What else?" he answered. "I'm going to save the fucking day, no matter what it takes."

* * *

The vast double doors leading into Morpheus' Cathedral opened as she approached them, sliding outward with all the weight of endless millennia behind them. Hyne strode into the entrance, looking about the chamber beyond, and managed a cackling laugh. 

She was here. Finally. After so many thousands of years, she had the Cathedral, and the pool it contained.

The exterior of the cathedral was vast and massive, a tremendous structure that commanded the entire city's skyline. But the interior was the exact opposite. Spartan and threadbare, it consisted only of a vast vaulting chamber lined with ethereal blue torches and candles burning along the length of the vast room, and a dais that rose up above the floor, towering above her head, accessible by a single staircase that led to the Zurvan Pool, the source of all dreams and the power over creation itself.

She almost trembled with joy at the thought of what she could do once she had bathed in those waters, and started forward, the doors hissing shut behind her.

She had barely crossed halfway t the stairs leading to the dais when the double doors started their stately opening once more. Hyne brought herself to a dead stop, cursing quietly, and then manifested her fans and extended her vessel's wings.

The vast double doors must have been opening too slowly, and those who opened them had absolutely no respect for the sheer importance of this chamber, this structure, and this city, because Nash and Squall proceeded to kick the doors in with all their might, almost blasting the huge oaken portals off their hinges.

"Anybody _fucking_ home?" Nash shouted, stalking into the chamber, Squall beside him. Both of their weapons were drawn, alight with their god-killing power, and they marched across the room toward Hyne as she turned to face them.

"I suppose Hades is dead, then?" she asked, and Nash nodded.

"And you're next, Hyne," he growled. "What do you say we toss aside all the stupid pretentious lead-up and get this fucking war over with, how 'bout?"

"Certainly," Hyne answered, smiling. "If you're the last bugs I need to crush to manifest my destiny, then so be it."

"Good," Nash growled, and fires started licking at his skin. He raised his modified Revolver in one hand, and the flames grew white-hot. He glanced to Squall as the other Elemental reached up into his hair and pulled his bandana down over his eyes.

"Let's end this," he said quietly, and raised his claymore before him in a silent salute at Hyne.

"Go to hell, Hyne!" Nash thundered, and his fires blazed up around him, and he hurled himself at Hyne, Squall a step behind, raising his sword to his side as he barreled in. Hyne extended her Death Fans, stretched her vessel's wings, and met their charge.

Outside, as Rinoa lay against the obelisk, staring at the distant cathedral, she saw fire and light shoot out through every window across the structure, and felt the entirety of Carpasia shudder for just an instant.

Within the cathedral, there was light, there was fire, there were screams and shouts of fury, and the two Elementals were launched backward, skidding across the smooth marble floor. Squall narrowed his crimson eyes, their glare piercing through the dim, blue-lit haze, as Nash's fires sent angry white light flickering across the chamber. Hyne, Death Fans extended, waded in, walking toward them.

Squall went wide and to the right, Nash went low and to the left. Hyne snapped her fans out as Phoenix and Diablos erupted from her shoulders, the mighty Guardians bowing before her indomitable willpower. Their wings reached out, Phoenix stopping Squall's claymore, and Diablos intercepting Nash's gunblade. The Death Fans lashed out, Destruction at Squall and tearing rips in the front of his coat as it shoved him backward, and Void sapping Nash's flames. She spun, Destruction rising up and crossing to slap Nash across his face and hurl him backwards, while Void brushed Squall's face and stole his energy for an instant. Hynes Guardian servants swept out their wings, and the appendages caught both Squall and Nash hard and launched them away.

Blood spouted from Nash's face, but his feet screeched against the marble floor, and he sprang back at Hyne, even as Squall thrust his gauntleted fingers into the stone beneath him to slow his movement. Raging white fire burned high around Nash, a geyser straight from the depths of hell, as he dove in at Hyne.

Diablos' wing snapped out, but Nash's blade bit into the shielding wing, refusing to let either it or Hyne's defensive aura slow his vengeance. She brought both of her fans up before her in a rapid cross, the Void fan striking first and sapping Nash's momentum. Destruction tore through the air, blasting gashes in the scientist's skin, and he reeled backward, unable to withstand the fury of her power.

Squall's claymore arced in behind Hyne, however, and she ducked, spinning around. Phoenix, at her command, sent holy fire searing at Squall, but his left hand snapped up and tossed the beam of destruction aside as if swatting a fly. He bore in, and Hyne intercepted his rapid cut, the Void fan deflecting the blade and wiping away part of the white light wreathing it. Destruction stabbed into his chest in an eye-blink, and Squall was hurled backward, his coat ripping and blood erupting from his stomach.

Nash shoved his physical agony aside and hurled himself at Hyne's back, his eyes blazing with fires that matched the ones swirling around himself and his sword. He descended on Hyne with a scream of vengeance, and she turned, looking almost annoyed. The Void fan waved before her, but he sent a gout of flame to his left, shoving himself aside, and skittered forward, chopping in hard with his gunblade as she pivoted to meet the attack. Destruction came down atop his thrust, and Void slapped across, but Nash dropped down low into a sweep at her legs. His boots met her left foot, and Hyne started to fall backward, but she flexed her hovering powers and spiraled away in a graceful dive. To add injury to the insult of her deft evasion, Phoenix sent a beam of holy fire into Nash's face, and livid red burn marks stretched across his face as he was sent flying backward.

Hyne ducked beneath Squall's arcing two-handed cut, and leapt back away from him, swishing forward with both of her fans and loosing a combined wave of annihilation and nothingness at the Elemental. Squall pivoted and rolled aside, and marble shattered where he had once stood, a thousand dust-fine shards erupting from the ground, only to fall right back as the Void fan robbed them of their kinetic energy. He dove in, blade flashing down in an overhead chop, and intercepted by Phoenix. Diablos manifested and struck, a wave of death slashing at Squall, but he bulled through it heedlessly and pressed his attack. Surging fires roared beside Hyne, and Nash, more angry than injured, dove in. Both gunblade and claymore chopped in savagely, and Hyne spun quickly and almost desperately, her fans lashing out, stealing life and blasting weapons away. She sent a surge of her own power out from Serra's body, and beams of light caught both her attackers full-on and launched them across the chamber, with fresh char marks across their torsos.

"This grows tiresome," she whispered as both Squall and Nash leapt to their feet, battered but more than willing to continue the battle, at whatever cost to themselves. The wings of Serra's body stretched outward, growing larger, and a rumble filled the bare cathedral halls.

Both Nash and Squall realized what she was doing, and lifted their weapons, rushing in before she could finish.

Black shadow rolled off one shoulder, and holy flames surged from the other. As Squall and Nash advanced in another indomitable charge, the wings expanded and split apart, becoming two wings, and then formed larger bodies and heads. The shuddering of the cathedral grew more and more intense, and the pulses of fire and shadow from Hyne's back became stronger and stronger.

She was summoning Diablos and Phoenix directly, and with the strength of her will and her control over Serra's body, Hyne could directly control both of the weaker Guardians.

Squall and Nash charged in, weapons posed to strike, but then Diablos and phoenix had fully manifested, and wasted no time going on the offense. The blazing bird of prey loosed a mighty storm of holy flame upon the pair of Elementals, staggering their assault, and Diablos dove in, shadows pulsing around its body as it slammed into both Elementals. They were launched backward, sent bouncing toward the broken cathedral doors, and straight through them. Ancient wood shattered as Squall and Nash crashed through them, and Diablos and Phoenix were right behind them.

"_Fuck!"_ Nash shouted in fury as he rolled to a stop and sprang up, left fist lashing out and intercepting Diablos' own left hook. The scientist shuddered under the blow, but held firm, summoning intense flames and blasting them into Diablos' chest. "We'll never be able to stop these two and get to Hyne in time!"

Squall's only response was to raise his sword again, and intensify the white light rushing off the blade, and leap into the air to meet Phoenix as it took to the swirling gray sky.

Diablos' fist slammed into Nash's face, and he reeled backward. The Guardian channeled forth shadow magic, and Nash's fires met it, the Elemental snarling in anger.

"Okay, fuckface," he growled like an animal, leaping backward, away from a rapid pair of wing jabs from Diablos. "You want to tackle me? Let's even this up!"

Nash stared hard at Diablos, his glare causing the mighty demonic Guardian to slow in its tracks, and reached up to his forehead. With a tug, he untied the straps of his bandana, and slowly drew it off his forehead. The Elemental Control Restraint fell to the stone at Nash's feet, and burning-hot flames stared to spring up around his body. He strode toward Diablos, his muscles bulging even larger than they were before, his eyes burning like melted gold. Demonic horns began to sprout from his forehead and curved back over his head as his hair turned a bright shade of burning red.

His gunblade dropped to the stone, now nothing but a toy in his hands as his size grew until he matched Diablos' stature.

"**Well, then, asshole,"** Nash called, waving one of his hands as his skin became a fire-charred black. **"You want to tackle the real deal? Think you can fight Ifrit?"**

* * *

Hyne stood in the cathedral, watching her enslaved Guardians go to work on the pair of Elementals, and then turned toward the dais at the far end of the cathedral. With a tight, satisfied smile at knowing that those two annoyances would not be getting in her way again, she advanced toward the dais. Hyne strode up the steps, and then stood at the Zurvan Pool's edge. 

The pool itself was remarkably simple and spartan, just like the interior of the temple. A simple pool of jet black water about thirty feet wide, it rested still and unmoving, not disturbed by the tumult that had raged across the chamber mere seconds before. Hyne stared over the mystical pool, the source of all dreams, and laughed with joy. She started to crouch down beside it, and considered abandoning this vessel to touch the pool directly.

Those thoughts vanished as she sprang aside, diving away from a weapon that jabbed at her head. Her fans rose, and she twisted and hopped backward, off the pool's dais, and away from her opponent, who pursued, rapier in hand.

Hyne hit the floor, readied her fans, and took a good long look at the figure before her. Her eyes narrowed; she should have been surprised, but knowing what she did, she wasn't.

"He couldn't remain manifest," Hyne hissed contemptuously. "So, he gave it all up, surrendered his very identity, in order to let you junction him."

The figure who stood across from Hyne stared back with her intense blue eyes, beneath the wide-brimmed hat Alucard had worn. His rapier rested in her left hand, and his pipe was clenched between her teeth. Yet, she still wore her SeeD uniform, though the cut had become even more stylized and refined, and the tie was now in a cross shape, just like Alucard's had been.

"He said it would be different," Quistis answered, not truly certain what had become of her. She clutched his rapier, and stared back at Hyne, ready to face him. "I . . .wasn't prepared for this. Its hard to tell where he ends and I begin now."

"Junctioning an Unbound is vastly different from a normal Guardian," Hyne replied. "It almost never happens, because if you two stay like you are for long enough, it can become permanent, and all shreds of your mortal soul will be replaced by the Unbound, and the two of you will be one." Hyne shook her head contemptuously.

"To think he'd let himself be subsumed by a mortal like that . . . And for what? To save existence? To give the living world one last gasp of life before the end? Or some other misguided notion?"

Quistis narrowed her eyes at Hyne, and remembered Alucard's words.

_Because he dared to love me . . . ._

"It doesn't matter," Quistis declared with sudden ferocity. She raised her rapier, his rapier, and vanished, flashing into existence behind Hyne and stabbing at her back. She dove away and whipped around, Destruction fan smashing away the floor where she stood. Quistis had already teleported away, appearing atop the dais.

"I'm going to put a stop to you, Hyne, no matter what I have to do, or give up!"

"Away from there," Hyne shouted, and bolted up to the top of the dais. Destruction slashed across, slamming into Quistis as she turned toward the pool, and launching her backward. Hyne dove after her, intent on spilling her blood.

"Old Guardian of Existence, or new Guardian of Existence," she hissed. "It doesn't matter! I'll annihilate you all the same!"

* * *

Squall's left hand dug into Phoenix's feathers and clawed at its flesh as it flew through the skies over Carpasia. He held on tightly as the Guardian did its damndest to throw him off. Squall, meanwhile, did his damndest to hurt the Guardian, which proved more difficult than he expected, being unable to angle his claymore around for a good strike at Phoenix's body. He couldn't sheathe the blade either, mainly because he didn't have a sheath to put the sword into, the straps having been cut by Illarra during their battle in Dollet. Thus, he had to hang on tightly, mercilessly thwacking Phoenix with his sword as the Guardian tried to buck him. 

Below, the battle between Diablos and Ifrit was far more evenly matched, as the two Guardians traded body blows for several moments, hammering each other with blows that would have shattered stone. Diablos came in with a brutal cross, and Ifrit dropped and ducked aside, slamming it with an uppercut. He brought his right fist up and rocked Diablos hard across the jaw, launching it into a nearby building and straight through. Ifrit pursued, shoulder-blocking Diablos the rest of the way through the wall.

The Guardian of Fire dove after Diablos, but the shadow demon managed to recover as Ifrit bore in, and stabbed forward with its claws. Ifrit came up short, but the claws still dug into his chest. Shadow pulsed into the wound, weakening Ifrit for an instant, and Diablos slammed into him, launching him back the other side of the building and back out onto the main street leading into the cathedral. Ifrit tripped over debris as h flew through the opening, and flopped onto his back. Diablos, never one to waste an advantage, leapt atop the Guardian and started pounding him viciously and mercilessly.

Diablos stood atop Ifrit, pumping beam after beam of shadow into his face and chest, snarling and laughing with a Hyne-induced sadism. Nash and Ifrit fought back violently, thrashing and launching blasts of fire, but Diablos weathered them in favor of payback directed at the fallen Guardian beneath it.

Then a dozen spears of ice stabbed into its side, and Diablos howled loudly enough to crack windows for a fair distance throughout the city. Ifrit took that moment to channel and focus a tremendous wave of fire, and grabbed Diablos by the throat, before loosing the blasts of flame.

The stone beneath the pair of Guardians glowed orange and began to melt, as a pillar of fire erupted into the heavens, blasting into the swirling masses of time and consuming Diablos' avatar with Nash's unrelenting fury.

When the glowing light of the firestorm faded, Diablos was gone, its avatar wiped away temporarily, and Ifrit shakily stood. He glanced over his shoulder, at a weakened Selphie as she leaned against the tall obelisk, beside Rinoa. Selphie gave Ifrit a thumbs up as best she could, and Ifrit nodded, before turning back toward the cathedral.

A piercing shriek filled the skies above as Squall continued his battle with Phoenix, but Ifrit paid it no find, instead focusing on his true goal: Hyne.

The deadly aerial struggle of thwacking and bucking ended when Phoenix banked close to one of the city's towers and brushed near it, slamming Squall into the wall. He was rather viciously scraped off of Phoenix's hide and started to fall down the side of the structure, but only as long as it took him to use his gauntleted fingers to dig a furrow in the side of the tower. He planted his feet against the tower and flexed his arm as quickly and violently as he could, tossing himself up into the air toward the top of the tower. As he neared the top, Squall stabbed his sword into the wall, and used that s leverage to pull himself up onto the roof of the tower.

And not a moment too soon, as Phoenix strafed the tower with a hellish storm of fire bolts, raining down on the tower like missiles. The structure shuddered, and stonework went hurtling into the air to plummet to the ground below, but Squall held on, readying his sword, and waiting for the Guardian to pass.

Phoenix shot past the tower, and an instant before it moved beyond his reach, Squall had leapt up, his sword leading, and stabbed into the Guardian's side, just behind its right wing. Pheonix screeched in agony, but Squall blocked out the roar, and instead climbed up onto the Guardian's back. Phoenix started bucking wildly, but Squall advanced up its back, stabbing his gauntleted fingers and sword into its hide like gruesome pitons. He had to stop and hold on for dear life as Phoenix did a spiraling barrel roll, and then, when the Guardian came out of it, he bolted forward, toward its head. Before the Guardian could do any more evasive maneuvers, Squall stood on its upper back, and spun, grabbing the Guardian by one of its wings.

His sword pulsed white, and he chopped down on the wing. With a titanic flash of light that lit up the entire city for an instant, the wing was sheared completely off. Squall spun on the writhing Phoenix and chopped down into its upper back, behind its head, and the blade dove deep into Phoenix's flesh.

With his Zanshin sight, Squall saw Phoenix begin to fade, unable to hold a corporeal shape, and spun, running off its back and leaping with all his might toward the nearest high building. He plummeted through the air for a second, and then two, and then hit the top of one of Carpasia's roofs, boots crunching tile shingles. Looking back over his shoulder, Squall saw Phoenix burn away in a torrent of white light and red fire.

With that danger dealt with, Squall oriented himself - noting that he was still very close to Morpheus' Cathedral - and dropped off the roof to find Hyne.

_**You cannot stop her, Squall.**_

_I haven't achieved anything by giving up, and I'm not giving up now._

_**I agree, but you would be a fool to fight her, exhausted and alone, which you know you will be.**_

_You have a suggestion, then?_

Indeed; Griever did have one for Squall.

* * *

The rapier went high, and the Quistis spun around, ducking low and slashing across viciously, blade aiming for Hyne's knees. She vaulted over the attack, spinning around and slapping both of her fans down on Quistis's back as she passed. Quistis cried out in agony, but instantly teleported away, fading back into view behind Hyne and stabbing at her back. Hyne was already spinning, Void fan slapping her rapier aside, and the Destruction fan sliding forward in a stab at her stomach. 

Quistis was already gone, reappearing a short distance away. Hyne turned on her, readying to strike again while she had the advantage of range, but then Quistis's rapier shifted. The blade elongated, and became more flexible, and in the span of an eye-blink, it had transformed into a chain whip, lashing out at a surprised Hyne.

"Clever trick," she hissed, even as her Destruction fan blocked the stabbing blade. Void flashed forth, and Quistis countered with a burst of existence, canceling the blast silently. She flickered into place beside Hyne, snapping her whip up at her head, but Hyne intercepted the strike with her Destruction fan, using the weapon's smaller size to easily catch the close-ranged strike and throw Quistis' whip up into the air. The whip shortened and sharpened as Quistis circled around Hyne, who turned calmly, waiting for her next move.

"_**HYNE!"**_

Ten feet of pissed-off Elemental-turned-Guardian Force barreled through the cathedral's entrance and straight toward Hyne at full speed, titanic fires erupting around it. Ifrit closed in, all the infinite infernos of hell chasing him as stormed toward Hyne's position, intent on crushing her where she stood.

Hyne spun, and, in a single gesture with her Void fan, silenced Nash's infuriated charge. The fires flickered, the guardian's steps faltered, and Hyne leapt up at him, slamming both of her fans down across his horned head a half dozen times, even as Quistis teleported into place behind her to strike.

Void and destruction shot through Nash repeatedly, and he was sent crashing back down into the ground screaming, blood and fire blasting from his face and chest, his eyes ripped and torn and broken. His body began to melt, reverting back to its normal form in a sea of simmering flames, and Hyne spun, almost casually, parrying Quistis' stab.

Hyne whirled around in a wild spinning motion, loosing streams of destruction and emptiness at Quistis in a violent assault. The floor and the air were torn asunder under the attack, and Quistis' rapid teleporting still couldn't keep her from eating the brunt of the attack. Destruction washed over her as she came out of a rapid defensive evasion, and as she was staggered, the assault hammered her mercilessly. Hyne fixated on her once Quistis was launched off her feet, and leapt across the distance between the two. Her fans slammed down on Quistis' shoulders as she started to stand, and she screamed in agony as annihilation and emptiness surged through her.

Quistis fell back to the floor, staring up at Hyne, inside Serra's body, and couldn't understand how thy could have ever hoped to defeat this monster. They could barely _touch_ Hyne, and meanwhile, everyone who opposed her was destroyed or broken, helpless before her will. How they could begin to fight something that wielded such destructive power eluded her.

_Alucard . . . I'm sorry. You hoped I could defeat her when we junctioned, but . . . She was right. I was just one last gasp of hope for the world._

"Bitch," snarled Nash as Hyne stepped over Quistis' fallen body, and he tried to push himself up to his feet. "Dammit, don't walk away from me!"

Hyne ignored Nash. She ignored them all. This battle was over, and she was going to end this, _now._

Hyne advanced toward the dais, for the third time, ready to end existence once more.

"_Hyne."_

She stopped, and let out a frustrated, enraged, and exasperated sigh, before turning.

Squall Leonhart walked into the cathedral, sword in hand, and stepped past the fallen bodies of Quistis and Nash.

"Come on, then," Hyne hissed. "Existence's final champion. I suppose it is only fitting that I kill you before I achieve the Final fantasy. Come on, then."

Squalls topped before her, bandana across his eyes, and stared at her with his invisible gaze for several long moments.

"I can't destroy you," Squall stated, coldly and simply. Hyne blinked at the blatant admission. She watched as he reached up and pulled the bandana off his eyes, and then loosed a quiet, exhausted sigh.

"I'm almost at the edge, after fighting Illarra, you, and phoenix. Now . . . I'm almost spent, and I have to admit that."

"Then sit down and let me finish my-" Hyne bgean.

"But I'm not the type to surrender," Squall cut in. "And, strangely enough, neither is he. I guess we're more alike than I ever wanted to realize, no matter how sick and twisted he may be."

"What are you talking about?" Hyne asked.

Squall's answer was to reach up to his bandana and tap something on the side of it. There was a faint hissing sound of releasing hydraulics.

"Squall . . . ." Nash muttered as he tried to stand, knowing what he was doing.

"Don't worry," Squall answered calmly. "He may be an evil, sick, sadistic, twisted bastard, but he's all we've got left."

"Who are you talking about?" Hyne demanded.

Squall stared at her with his crimson eyes, and narrowed them.

"Let my daughter go," he hissed, and then tore the Elemental Control Restraint from his head.

Silence filled the cathedral for a few moments, and Squall closed his eyes. Slowly, almost ritually, he brought his sword before him in a two-handed grip, flat presented toward Hyne, and the tip pointed skyward.

His eyes opened, and the cybernetic implants _exploded_ outward in a flash of white light, and a toothy, sadistic smile shot across Squall's features. Gleaming white illumination streamed from his eyes as he stared at Hyne.

"**Well, then, Hyne."**

The voice was not Squall's, but of the monster within him.

"**Let's get this over with, shall we?" **Griever asked, and then bolted forward at Hyne, roaring in animal fury, sword erupting in god-killing light.

"How about no?" Hyne replied coldly, and narrowed her eyes. She let her frustrations at the constant interruptions ripple forth, and her captive body was sheathed in amber light, the pulsating force of a Limit technique. Griever's glowing white eyes widened as he realized what Hyne was doing with Serra's body, and he thrust a hand toward Hyne as white radiance engulfed her.

Gray-white lightning coursed down Squall's hand and toward Hyne as she released the all-powerful assault of Serra's Limit technique, a beam of pure annihilation slamming into the bolt and shattering it, sending sparks and tendrils of electricity scattering across the chamber. But the beam served its purpose, allowing Griever the time to dive aside, letting the scything white light slice through a wall of the cathedral like a katana through cloth. He bolted ahead as the beam was firing, and chopped down at Hyne with the long claymore.

The Destruction fan intercepted, and Void dove forward, jabbing Griever in the chest. He reeled backward, his existence damaged by the nothingness of that weapon, and had to fall back on his heels as Hyne pressed her assault in a rapid series of chops and waves. The floor shattered, the air was rent apart, and distant walls cracked as Griever desperately evaded her assault, and then suddenly broke the pattern of retreat with a charging slash.

Hyne's fans intercepted the attack, and countered before Griever could retreat, slamming him alternately with both fans, tearing into his possessed body and sapping at his life force. He fell away again under her ruthless attack, clutching his chest.

"**Impossible,"** he breathed. **"How can you be so fast? So strong? You were never this powerful before . . . ."**

"I don't need to bother explaining that to you now," Hyne answered, shaking her head. She readied her fans. "Its time for you to be unmade, Griever. I'm sure you'd enjoy the suffering I'd ordinarily give you, but I don't have time to torture you. I'll just have to wipe you out of existence."

"**Hm. Well, then."**

A thunderblast of sound erupted across the chamber, and pulsing white light surged around Squall's body. That body rapidly began to shift and contort, transforming within the cocoon of light as quickly as Griever could force it to.

"**Perhaps I may have picked this up by co-existing with him for so long, but I think I'm not going to let you wipe this existence out without unleashing everything I have, Hyne."**

Something clattered across the floor, sliding past Quistis to come to a stop near Nash. The scientist looked down at it, to see the black-edged claymore Squall had been using. Wordlessly, he scooped it up into his hands as the shimmering white light surged around Griever, his body growing and expanding. Feathered wings stretched out, muscled arms became apparent, and the titanic red crest rose over Griever's body as his face contorted into a grinning lion's visage.

Hyne stared up at the display, and sighed as Griever finished manifesting, and stretched his arms, before loosing a healthy roar.

"If you think that can save you, then fine," she replied, shaking her head. "But in the end, all these theatrics and dramatics are completely useless."

"**We'll see about that, Hyne,"** Griever answered. He raised his hands toward Hyne. **"Of all the Bound Guardians, I am the strongest. Let us see if you can handle my-"**

Amber light rose up around Hyne as Griever spoke, and white light covered her body. Griever cut off his declaration and began to channel up his raw power, ready to sweep Hyne into an alternate dimension and bombard her with unfathomable power.

But then white light slammed into his face, and Hyne's scything beam cut deep into his flesh. Griever roared in agony and protest, and as he reeled backward from the devastating bolt of annihilation, Hyne shot into the air, toward Griever, and slammed both of her fans into either side of his huge head. His roar redoubled in volume, and the guardian's skin erupted, white light burning into the open air as the Guardian Force 's essence was assaulted by Hyne's power.

"Dammit," Nash snarled as he used the claymore o push himself up to his feet. "If only I could get at her while she's tied up with him . . . ."

"You can't kill her," replied Quistis as she, too, tried to stand, but with far less success. "Even with that sword, there's no way to permanently kill her."

Nash looked to Quistis for a moment, about to protest, and then stopped. He stared at Quistis for a few moments, and then grinned.

"No," he hissed. "I can't. But I do have another option . . . ."

Griever toppled back to the ground, unable to hold position against such overwhelming power. He stared up at Hyne as she floated above him, and tried to strike out at her, refusing to believe she had just so easily wiped the floor with him.

"Die, griever," Hyne hissed. "And let blind men stay blind."

Griever thundered in defiance, but Hyne shot down, smashing both fans onto his head. Shimmering gray and white light erupted from the impact point, engulfing both beings, and Griever roared in agony and pain, his scream shaking the walls of the cathedral . . . And gradually weakening, into the agonized pain of a mortal man.

Squall Leonhart lay on his back, clothes shredded, blood running from dozens of wounds and his skin charred, and could no longer see. Griever was gone, and with him, so was his abilities as an Elemental. He tried to sit up, his body screaming in agony and a thousand times heavier than before. He looked around, but could see nothing.

Squall Leonhart was blind and helpless before Hyne, who stood above him, cackling with glee.

"And so it ends," she declared. "The very champion of existence, the ultimate warrior, left cowed, blind, and helpless at my feet." Her laughter resounded in Squall's ears as he tried to rise, but his body was too exhausted, too weak, and too damaged. He could only stare up at Hyne with the empty pits of his destroyed eyes, and listen to her walk away, across the room and toward the dais.

"And now it all ends," she whispered, walking up the steps once more.

There was a whistle in the air, and Hyne spun, a fan lashing out and knocking the projectile down into the marble floor. She glared down at it, to see a curved saber embedded in the marble, and looked up, to see-

""_Let! Serra! Go!"_

Seifer Almasy bolted across the room, Hyperion in hand, screaming as he charged, having run flat out from the plaza outside when Rinoa had told him that Hyne had possessed Serra's body. An inexplicable rage had flown over the former knight at hearing those words; in Squall's ears, he heard the echo of his own cries as he had desperately tried to save Rinoa in deep space, and knew what drove the former knight at that moment.

Seifer dove in, Hyperion stabbing at Hyne's chest, but she spun aside,e asily evading the thrust. The Vid fan traced down his back, sapping his strength, but Seifer whirled, rising into a kick that rocked across hyne's face. She was staggered back, and he shot ahead in a spinning slash. The Void fan intercepted, and the Destruction fan lanced across into the fan. The impact of annihilation sheared right through the gunblade, shattering it.

Without missing a beat, Seifer ducked beneath the oncoming wave of destruction and tore his saber from the marble floor with his left hand. The blade arced across at Hyne's stomach, but Destruction stopped it cold, and the Void stabbed into his face. His muscles went slack, but he banished the weakness and surged forward into a thrust.

Destruction flew across, and the saber was destroyed, flying apart in a hundred shattered metal shards.

Seifer's right hand clicked, and he raised his arm, the single-shot cannon mounted in his cyborg arm sliding out. It roared, and the heavy slug flew at Hyne.

The round shattered against the Destruction fan, and the Void fan stole his strength again with another wave. Destruction slapped down over his extended arm, and the cybernetic attachment was blasted apart.

Seifer, running entirely on adrenaline, emotions, and raw fury, shot ahead, trying to punch Hyne, but she slapped his hand aside with the Void fan and smacked him in the face with the destruction fan. His face erupted in blood in a half-dozen places, and the former knight staggered backward.

But he didn't fall.

"_Serra!"_ he screamed again, and took a step forward. Hyne raised her fans, but then stopped, her face contorting in defiance, which was quickly and suddenly replaced by a horrified expression, her eyes staring at Seifer's bloody face and ravaged body.

" . . . Seifer?' she asked, almost too quietly to hear. He stopped, staggering in place.

"Serra?" he called through the blood pooling in his mouth and over his lips.

But then Serra's face contorted into anger and hatred.

"She is mine!" snapped Hyne's voice, and Seifer's features transformed, back into the look of pure rage from before. The former knight shot ahead, and one last thought entered his mind as he made his final attack, a realization of possibly the only way to stop Hyne.

"_No!"_ Seifer shouted in blatant defiance o the end, and his hand caught the front of Serra's uniform. He yanked, as hard as he could, putting all his strength into this single motion, dragging Hyne closer.

He pressed his lips to Serra's.

The cathedral went silent, still, and empty, save for one noise: the pounding of boots as Nash surged ahead on his last legs, channeling his rage into Squall's claymore.

Then, something changed.

The pulsing white light that Hyne had used to possess Serra had reappeared, flowing _out_ of her body, as Serra's mind fully resurfaced, shoving Hyne out of her with all the power her will could draw upon, driven by that one kiss Seifer had made. As Hyne fled, Serra's arms reached up, wrapping around Seifer as the former knight's legs began to give way, buckling under his own weight. The tendrils of light surged into the air behind Serra, and Hyne's body, that of the tiny eight-year-old girl, reappeared, rage and disbelief clouding her features.

She opened her mouth, to shout something at her foes, but then Nash leapt over Seifer and Serra, his sword blazing with pure white destruction, and he screamed one final time.

The sword fell, and Hyne cried out in agony.

Nash flung the sword aside and shot ahead, grabbing Hyne as her body began to fall apart, cleaved in half by Nash's stroke. He gripped her head in both of his hands.

"I can't kill you, Hyne, so I'll do the next best thing!" He stared into her eyes, and pulsing blue and purple light surged from his arms and through her, and then back into him. Hyne let out a scream of denial as she tried to fight back, but, her corporeal body rent as it was, she was unable to resist.

As the blazing light engulfed Nash and Hyne, Serra looked down at Seifer, cradling him in her hands tightly as she guided him to the floor.

"Serra . . . ." she heard him whisper.

"Don't talk," she replied, tears running down her face. She could sense, somehow, that he was on his last legs, that this final charge had cost him everything. "I can't let you . . . Die on me . . . ."

"Serra," came a call behind her, and she looked behind herself, to see Squall, crawling forward, battered, bloody, an with his eyes destroyed and no longer able to see. "Serra, the pool . . . ."

She jerked up to her feet as she realized what hew as talking about, and shot across the room, running up the steps of the dais, and standing at the edge of the jet black pool. She stared down at it, and remembered the stories of the Zurvan and what it could do.

She turned, and cast a look back at those scattered across the room, at Seifer's bloodied face and dying body, at Squall's broken form, and Quistis' prone body, and Nash, consumed in the throes of his vengeance as he drew Hyne into himself, and looked back down toward the pool.

Serra took a deep breath, and plunged in, the black water rising up around her, and made a single wish.

_Save them. Save them all . . . ._


	43. Epilogue: Forevermore

**Soundtrack:** There's only one song for this chapter: "To Far Away Times" a Chrono Trigger remix by Reuben Kee and Pixietricks off OCRemix. Link in the relevant forum topic.

* * *

_**Epilogue: Forevermore**_

"_And so, the repair work here in downtown Dollet has finally come to an end, nearly a year after the vicious street battle that marked the final end of Crell Varines' insurgency. At the heart of the central plaza of the city, a monument is being raised to the man who led the Dollet military in its finest hours, and sacrificed his life for his country. General Randolph Almasy's statue is being raised as we speak, and you can see the hushed anticipation, and the mix of joy and sorrow, on the faces of the thousands watching the memorial being raised . . . ."_

The smooth, polished, wood of the bar was rhythmically swept by his towel as he stood behind it, watching the sun outside begin to descend in the western sky, beyond the flower-coated hills. The television resting over the bar showed live footage from the heart of Dollet as the statue of the fallen General was being raised, and the sea od onlookers crowded around it. He watched the screen intently as his grandfather's image was secured in place, and the legions of cheering Dollet citizens burst into applause and cries of happiness and celebration.

Seifer sighed quietly, and glanced around the bar, at the plush wooden chairs scattered around the establishment, around an arsenal of well-maintained and polished wooden tables. Flowers sprouted from a dozen pots and miniature gardens set around the bar's numerous windows, an array of colors and greenery that filled the bar with life. Neon lights hung over the bar itself, but were not lit yet; the Winhill Sanctuary was not open to business today, and for a very good reason.

"Okay," called a voice from the back room, and Seifer turned, to see Serra step out of the rear storage rooms, a crate of bottles in hand. "All the stock is secured. And I picked out what I think everyone likes, though I'm not sure about what Zell drinks . . . ."

"Warm milk in a dirty glass," Seifer muttered as she set the crate down, her black hair dropping down past her shoulders. She had taken to growing it out like Rinoa's, and with her hair like that, and wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, she looked remarkably like her mother.

Seifer scratched the goatee marking his chin with his right hand; they looked quite a bit different than they had a year ago, while fighting Hyne. Hell, they were a lot different now than they were a year ago, period.

_Suppose that being thrown in prison, leading a rebellion, commanding an army, heading up a counter-terrorist unit, fighting Hyne herself, and then saving the entire universe with a kiss would change anybody._

Seifer glanced to Serra as she stood up, stretching, and patted her stomach, which was slightly bulging.

_Changing priorities, I guess. Five years ago, I wanted to be the greatest warrior in the world. I suppose I did become that. Saved the universe, and how? Not with some awesome weapon or genetically engineered super powers, or even simple skill and determination. I saved the universe with the one weapon Hyne couldn't block, destroy, or weaken._

She looked to him as he was thinking, and cocked her head to the side. She waved a hand in front of his face, and he blinked, snapping out of his reminiscing.

"Hello? Seifer?" she called, and he chuckled.

"Sorry," he replied. "I was pulling a Squall there."

"What were you thinking about?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"Five years ago, when I was still a cadet, I wanted to be the greatest warrior the world would ever know. I thought that ambition and determination would lead me to that, but all that bought me was an assload of hurt. And after I got humbled and beaten so much, I finally realized that which drove your father o the heights he had reached and why he was able to beat me, every time. It wasn't because of Chimera genes or skill or anything physical and tangible." Seifer managed another laugh. "Love. That was it. He was fueled by love. I never knew it, but he always had it, even from the very beginning, back in Deling City. Love gave him the strength he needed to win."

He looked up to her, and managed a wistful smile.

"And it wasn't until I used love as my weapon that I was able to save you and stop Hyne."

"Hm," Serra said as he finished speaking, thinking to herself. She looked away for a moment, across their bar, and then out at the sun in the western sky.

"I think there's a lesson in all this," she mused, leaning over the counter. "Existence can't maintain itself without the forces that bind it together. Those forces are as powerful as the forces of unmaking. I read that there's an unexplained force that holds all molecules and atoms together, keeping the protons and neutrons and electrons combined, and we've never been able to figure out how that works." She looked back toward Seifer. "Maybe love is like that? Except, instead of being the strong nuclear force, it binds humans together, just as unexplainably?"

"Possibly," Seifer replied, walking up beside her and draping an arm over her shoulder. "Though I'll admit, I got a D in Basic Physics, so I don't know much of what you're talking about."

Her shoulders shook with laughter, and he managed a quiet chuckle too. He pulled her a little closer, feeling the warmth running between their bodies, and reminded himself again at how weird this relationship was.

The door leading into the bar opened, and the old-fashioned bell hanging over it dingled, and the pair looked up, to see the small, burly form of Zell Dincht enter, holding the door open for Ellone, as she cradled a sleeping baby in her arms.

"Chicken-Wuss!" Seifer called as Zell and Ellone came into the bar. Zell flashing him a thumbs-up.

"Ego-shit!" he called back. "How's it going?"

"Great!" Seifer answered, as Serra came around the bar and walked toward Ellone, an adoring expression on her face at seeing their baby girl for the first time. She happily handed the baby to Serra as she asked, and the black-haired woman cradled the child in her hands.

"So, how's the kid?" Seifer asked as Zell sat down at the bar. The former knight grabbed a carton of milk from the crate and poured Zell a glass. The brawler looked crestfallen.

"Man, never have kids," he muttered, shaking his head. "Celia's spent every night in the last week crying a three in the morning."

"Never imagined you with kids," Seifer said, passing the glass to Zell.

"Never imagined you running a respectable establishment," Zell shot back, taking a big gulp.

"We all change, I guess," came the quiet reply. "How is Garden doing?"

"Fine, s'pose," Zell answered. "We've finished mopping up the little bits and pieces of Crell's network, though we'll never catch all of them. And with the treaties between Galbadia, Timber, Dollet, and Esthar, there's pretty much nothing for Garden to do. We're still going to be around, but with Hyne gone, there's almost no Sorceress power left, and Garden's getting kind of superfluous." Zell paused as Seifer stared at him for a moment. "What?"

"You just said superfluous," Seifer said, surprised, Zell blinked, and shook his head.

"Yeah, I'm talking like a respectable guy. Scary thought."

"So, any contracts lately?"

"Nah, nothing big. We've been relegated to security and protection services, and training police and defense forces. I think Xu and Cid are planning on expanding Garden's role to training military and police forces, and step down the mercenary work. Fine by me, though, since I'm just a hand-to-hand instructor now. Having a family changes priorities, y'know."

"Yeah, I understand just fine," Seifer replied, glancing at Serra. "So, how's everyone else at Garden?" he added, changing the subject.

"Well, with all the changes that are going on, most of us have gone our separate ways, so to speak," Zell replied, and by "us" he was clearly talking about their limited circle of friends. "Haven't heard much from Irvine and Selphie in the few months, and Squall and Rinoa have been in Esthar, getting his eyes fixed again and visiting Laguna. And Quistis . . . Well, after the changes she went through, I'm not sure when we'll see her again."

"You get in contact with her?" Seifer asked, and Zell shrugged.

"Left a message on her machine in Galbadia Garden a few weeks back, but haven't heard anything from her in response. I don't know if she's even gone back to Garden since she gave the Commander's position over to Xu."

Their conversation was interrupted as the door leading into Seifer and Serra's bar dangled once more, and the quartet inside looked up, to see two people enter, one diminuative, and the other tall, lanky, and with a cowboy hat resting atop his head.

"Selphie! Irvine!" Serra called, and quickly handed Celia back to Ellone, before rushing across the room to hug both of her friends, who echoed her greeting with equal enthusiasm.

* * *

"So, how are we going to handle this?" he asked as he sat down in the booth across from the blonde woman. Quistis Trepe, the newly minted Guardian of Existence, observed him as he settled into his seat. The long, rough brown hair and braid were gone, his hair much shorter and under control. The lines and weathered creases across his face were replaced with youthful clarity, and he looked barely over the age of fifteen. Clearly, his drawing and junctioning of Hyne had dramatically changed his apparent age, but aside from that, he didn't show any of her physical features. 

"It all depends," Quistis asked, glancing across the bar, the same bar that Ramuh and Alucard had frequented.

"On what?" Nash asked, eyeing her carefully. She looked back to him, and was amazed by how he looked exactly like Squall had, five years ago. But that was unsurprising, considering he _was_ Squall.

"On how much of you is Nash, and how much of you is Hyne," she replied. Nash scowled.

"This here," he said, tapping his chest, "is entirely me. Hyne's gone; I wiped her away when I destroyed her and drew her into me. I'm Nash, nothing more."

"You know what I mean," Quistis replied, and Nash shrugged.

"I'm not filled with an overwhelming desire to wipe the universe from existence, if that's what your asking. I'm not consumed by the essence of destruction as she was."

"But who's to say we won't be consumed eventually?" Quistis asked settling back in her seat. "We're not just channeling the energies of existence and unmaking, Nash; we've become the very physical incarnations of those forces. Who's to say we're not going to be overwhelmed by those desires and those forces and be come utterly dedicated to their propagation?"

"Quistis?" Nash asked after a second.

"Hm?"

"You still know how to ruin a good day, you know that?" She managed a chuckle at his comment. Her pipe released a stream of harmless smoke as she regarded him.

"How did it feel?" she asked. "Getting your revenge?" Nash pondered that for a moment, and shrugged.

"They say that getting your revenge leaves you empty and lifeless inside, especially when your entire life is consumed with revenge," he said. Then, Nash smiled and leaned forward. "But that's because your purpose in life is gone once you carry out your revenge, I figure. That's why I'm making that satisfying moment when I destroyed, consumed, and junctioned Hyne last for all eternity."

"How so?"

"Hyne existed to wipe out existence," Nash explained. "By becoming the Guardian of The End, and then not carrying out that will, her desires will never be made manifest. Existence will remain, for all eternity, as long as I'm the guardian of The End. Hyne's will will never be made manifest. That's the sweetest and most everlasting form of revenge against her I can ever imagine."

"So, the fate of the universe's remaining existence is predicated on the fact that you're pissed at Hyne and want to stick it to her," Quistis surmised. She regarded him for a moment, and gave Nash a slight smile. "Were it anyone else, I wouldn't feel safe. But you being the one whose anger is keeping existence secure . . . I'm not worried."

"Exactly," Nash finished. "Anything else?"

"No," Quistis replied, standing up. "I just wanted to be sure of your intentions. Now I am certain."

"Good. Let's not bother each other and go our separate ways then."

"I take it this means you're going to disappear?" Quistis asked as Nash rose. The Guardian nodded.

"Yeah, I think I will," he replied. "Go somewhere far away from here, and let the world forget I ever existed. Sounds like a plan." He nodded toward Quistis, and turned around, walking out of the smoky bar. Outside, he stepped into the setting sunlight, looked up and down the streets of Dollet, picked a direction, and started walking.

Nash kept on walking in that direction, and was never seen again.

* * *

The sun had started to descend a little bit further in the sky when the door into the bar opened once more, to the scene of Irvine, Zell, Selphie, Serra, Ellone, and Seifer seated around a couple of tables that had been pulled together. Drinks were being passed around between Seifer, Irvine, and Selphie, while Ellone and Serra declined the alcohol; Ellone because she didn't drink, and Serra because she was pregnant. As soon as Selphie had seen the signs that she was expecting, She had immediately demanded to know everything - the baby's gender, name, and, to Serra's embarrassment, the details regarding the conception. 

"Details your fragile ears do not need to hear," Seifer had told her, even as he watched her chug a bottle of beer he couldn't hope to down at once. Seifer hated to admit it, but he, and Irvine, were being drunk under the table by the much smaller former SeeD, who was complaining about barely feeling a buzz. Apparently she had come from a very alcohol-tolerant family.

"So, you guys have a name for the kid yet?" Irvine asked, and Seifer and Serra glanced to one another.

"Well . . . We have a good idea that it's a bay, so . . . ." he explained.

"We wanted to go for something profound and meaningful," Serra began to say. "But we couldn't think of anything, so we're still-"

"Randolph," Seifer finished. Serra glanced to him, at the spur-of-the-moment name, and nodded in agreement.

"Randolph," she finished.

"Yeah! Good name! I'll drink to that!" Selphie proclaimed, tearing the cap off another bottle with her bare fingers and raising it to the ceiling.

It was this scene that Quistis Trepe walked in on, and was greeted with cheers and joyous greetings. Selphie knocked over her chair as she rush-tackled Quistis, and then helped her get back up. Laughing to herself, Quistis sat down at the table, and reached for a bottle.

"How is everyone?' she asked, and the cheerful response that came back answered her question. She opened a bottle and took a sip.

"How is the whole custodian of the universe thing coming along?" Zell asked, and Quistis shrugged.

"Remarkably simple, now that I'm certain Hyne is out of the picture permanently," she answered.

"You certain?" Selphie asked, and Quistis thought back to Nash's words.

"Yes," she answered. "Very certain." She smiled, and looked around the table. "So, how is everyone? What have I missed out on?"

* * *

The sun was setting over Winhill as he stood over the headstone. Rinoa stood beside him as he knelt down over this mother's name, and used his fingers to sweep away the flowery growths rising up over the marker. 

"I never knew you held so much in you past," Squall said to Raine's grave. He managed a smile. "I'm not angry, or bitter. I never knew you, yet I feel like I should, and do know you, somewhere deep within. I'm your son, your legacy. I only wish I did know more about you than the memories Ellone granted me through Laguna." He ran a finger over the marble, tracing Raine's name, and stared at it for a long time.

Finally, Squall rose, that final piece of business taken care of. He looked down into the smooth stone, and saw a rough reflection of his body in it; his hair was cut closer, dropping to his chin. The livid scars were still visible, but his eyes were no longer the harsh red that the cyborg implants had granted him, but a dark blue, that of his original eyes.

And most importantly, there was no second presence in his mind. The monster that had made him what he was, and had been wiped away battling Hyne, was no more.

Squall Leonhart was free.

He turned to Rinoa, and a heartfelt smile stretched across his face. He reached out and took her hand.

"Come on," she told him, looking down at the town nestled among the hills and streams below. "Everyone's waiting."

Fifteen minutes later, Squall and Rinoa entered the Winhill Sanctuary, to applause and cheers. They pulled up chairs and another table, and gathered around. Drinks were passed among them, and the eight people in that bar swapped stories and caught up with one another, each telling their stories and experiences. The conversations gradually drifted toward the future, and what everyone's plans were.

Irvine and Selphie had built a cabin out in the woods outside of Timber, at Obel Lake. The sharpshooter was considering taking up fishing, and had bought a rowboat, while Selphie had begun to work as an engineer for the train lines running out of Timber.

Zell and Ellone still lived in Galbadia Garden, and Zell was the head instructor of the unarmed combat program.

Quistis, well, Quistis was the Guardian of Existence. An unexpected change, and even Quistis was uncertain what she would do now. Possibly return to Garden? Cid was considering rebuilding Balamb Garden, after all, and it would need experienced staff.

Squall and Rinoa weren't certain what they were going to do. Squall wanted to put the past behind him, for certain.

"I've killed enough men in my time," he explained. "Its time to ignore these genes running through me and stop the bloodshed. I'm retiring."

"And I'm with you, too," Rinoa added, smiling.

"Always," he answered.

And Seifer and Serra? Running a bar and inn in a quiet, distant town?

"Laguna mentioned it in passing," Seifer explained. "I figured somewhere quiet was the best place to settle down, raise some kids, and grow old and happy."

"That's not the Seifer I knew," Zell remarked, and Squall nodded.

"I'm not the Seifer you knew," he replied. "Like you said, Squall, its time to put these genes, and the Chimera's legacy, behind us. Time to stop fighting, and start living."

"Yeah!" Selphie crowed.

"Indeed," Quistis added, nodding.

"Put the past behind us," Irvine cut in. He wrapped a hand around a bottle.

"The future," Ellone added, and Rinoa nodded. She raised a glass, and everyone picked up a glass or bottle, hefting it toward the ceiling.

"To the future," Squall said, lifting his glass. "To whatever may come."

"**_The future!" _**everyone called out, drinks held high.

Outside the bar, the sun finished its descent, and the moon cast the hills over Winhill with silvery light. Silence drifted over the town, and peace reigned across the hills, through the sky, and the entire world at that moment, silent, undisturbed, and perfect.

* * *

_**The End**_

* * *


	44. Final Commentary

_**Pretentious Self-Important Ramblings, GO: Author Commentary**_

Well, its been a ride hasn't it? I can't finish this story without including my own personal commentary on everything I wrote, so I might as well spew for a while. Stand by for some disjointed thoughts and commentary here.

Where did Chimera come from?

It came from the insane combination of 24, Guilty Gear, Metal Gear Solid, a little bit of Hellsing, some R.A. Salvatore, a dash of Vampire Hunter D, a smattering of Bleach, a hefty infusion of Advent Children, whole lot of Halo, and a helping of Black Hawk Down to finish it off. That's where Chimera came from; it's a mish-mash of a dozen and more different stories I've read, seen, or listened to, and I crafted a story over four years that ultimately became this fic.

The original version and vision started on a basic premise I developed a long time ago: Garden, plus Galbadia, would be at war with Esthar. I also developed the idea of a character who hated Squall with all her heart, named Illarra, though originally she was just a disgruntled SeeD expelled from Garden's first SeeD class. Nash didn't exist, Hyne didn't exist, and Serra didn't exist.

As I wrote Gunblade, however, I also developed aside story. I was really inspired by Daz Shier's "The Omega" and I moved to follow in his footsteps with a truly epic story.

In many ways, Chimera evolved as it was written, modified and changing constantly. In the original draft, instead of the final battle of Blood being between Gardens, it was an invasion of Dollet. Squall and Illarra would kill each other fighting on the bridge in Dollet, and Seifer would have delivered the final message to Rinoa. Illarra's corpse would have been recovered by Crell and revived using the Requiem, but then she would have killed him and used the aerosol bombs to infect Esthar and lead a massive Elemental army on a war of genocide that only Squall, returning half a decade later from Nash's intervention, would be able to stop.

Hyne wasn't even included in the original idea, but I wanted to make the story seem even more epic, so I developed Hyne, Alucard, and Hades as Unbound Guardian Forces. From there came the concept of Carpasia and Zurvan, and I knew that this would be their ultimate goal. Serra came right after this as the means by which Hyne would achieve her ends, and I made her into Squall and Rinoa's daughter shortly after I came up with the concept. At first she was intended to be a character who would facilitate a love triangle with Irvine and Selphie ( I even toyed with the idea of her not yet fully grasping the idea of "only" being attracted to the opposite sex, which would have made the triangle that much more awkward . . . But that's just my inner Hades :P ) In fact, one idea I was toying with was having Serra be the illegitimate love-child of Seifer and Rinoa, and then turning it around and having Squall fall in love with Serra while undergoing his self-imposed exile. That would have resulted in one fucked-up storyline . . . And now I ownder how it would have played out if I kept it that way . . . .

And while we're on the subject, Hades. Originally, Hades wasn't the paragon of fuck-win that he became; however, the idea of someone who exists partially to cause humor precisely through random commentary, utter laziness and laid-back attitude, and by breaking the fourth wall into a trillion tiny pieces was very appealing. In many ways, Hades is almost a self-insert character; he voiced some random thoughts I myself had during the story, and he has a sense of humor very similar to my own. And even more importantly, Hades was both the tension release valve and the reminder that it is, after all, just a story. An author should never forget that, and Hades was my reminder that I was in this to have fun writing a good story. I think too many authors (myself included!) get too caught up in their work. One must always take everything with a smile and a laugh, that's my belief, and so I tend to poke fun at myself most of all while writing.

One thing that has always dogged my writing, and from which my tendency to poke fun at myself stems, is that I'm overly self-critical. Perhaps its just me, but when I look back at my work, I can't help but think of mistakes or opportunities missed. With Chimera, I keep wondering whether I did enough with Serra, or whether I should have developed Squall's self-imposed exile a bit more thoroughly. I always worry that I never write enough per chapter, or if I do enough characterization, or if a scene isn't long enough. In many ways, I think I'm my own worst critic. In "The Final Fantasy", for example, I was a little bothered by the abruptness and shortness of Carpasia's presence, and how Alucard suddenly revealed to Quistis that she could join with him. I wondered if I could have expanded that more. I don't think there's a chapter I've put out that I was absolutely satisfied with, in reflection.

Okay, so I've spewed long enough. Let's answer a few questions. First, one of the more common ones: why change the title of the story?

The simple reason is this: Blood was the entire set-up for Legacy. Everything that happened in Blood led up to the events of Legacy, so once Blood finished, and the final pieces were ready to move, Legacy was set in motion. Additionally, the story is primarily divided into four specific arcs: the terrorism in Fisherman's Horizon, the battle in Trabia/Iceblood, the battle between the Gardens and Fortresses, and the events of Legacy. Legacy was not intended to be a stand-alone story, and instead was the ultimate conclusion of the entire plotline. Thus, the title of the story became Legacy of the Chimera.

Some other questions have also been raised, which is understandable; the story is so convoluted even I was having to check to keep the facts straight.

The short and skinny version of how precisely the Chimera (Randolph) and his legacy (Seifer, Squall, Illarra, Serra) came to be: Nash was originally Squall Leonhart, in the timeline where Ultimecia arose. In this timeline, Hyne corrupted Rinoa to make her into an evil abomination, and Squall witnessed this first-hand. This Squall, intent on destroying Hyne and Ultimecia, used a new Estharian genetic modification that killed the gene that induced the end of cellular mitosis, effectively guaranteeing that he wouldn't die of old age. When Time Compression occurred, the Squall from the alternate timeline and the Squall from the "real" timeline (the one in the game) merged, as they were, at the core, the same person. When Ultimecia died, and time was uncompressed, the two Squall were scattered across time. The one who would become Nash ended up in Centra, roughly a hundred years before FFVIII began. There, he decided to continue his hunt for Hyne, and deliberately engaged the research into the Chimera project, which resulted in Randolph's transformation into the original Chimera. He also identified his unborn mother, and subjected both her and her twin brother, Virago, to the Chimera treatments. These genetic treatments were passed down the family line to Seifer, Squall, Illarra, and Serra.

phew You got it all now?

Another question: why is Rinoa using Squall's gunblade? That's because, as pointed out in the beginning of Blood, Squall has an almost spiritual connection to the Revolver. It is as much a part of him as any limb, and that is why Rinoa took it and used it after he died, to carry on his legacy and carry a part of him, even when she doesn't have his body.

What about the awesometastic power Rinoa had? Why doesn't Hyne use it? Simple: look what happened to Rinoa when she flexed that much power. Hyne's not stupid; she's not going to unleash tremendous power that could possibly hurt herself, especially when far more precise expenditures of that power work just as easily. Despite her annoyance at her enemies' tendencies to keep coming, she's pretty much just toying with them, just like she toyed with Nash in their battle. Hyne's got a power trip going on, and she has no qualms with leaving a living opponent behind, especially when they've been beaten to the point where they can't stop her . . . Which ultimately proved her downfall, as Nash had just enough strength left to surge in and deliver the final blow to her corporeal body.

Why didn't Squall recognize Irvine? Irvine was clad in the uniform of one of Steele's bodyguards, and Squall automatically assumed that he was one of those guards. He didn't bother checking closely to see his face until he noticed Irvine was junctioned.

Actually, just to add this in, Squall's Chimera costume design was a concept I'd been developing for a while. Originally it was a pretty complex outfit, consisting of a large black cloak over his back, a black trenchcoat, and gray pants and armor beneath the trenchcoat, and the wide-brimmed hat. I cut back on the design, and after Advent Children I had this idea to have Squall wear a belt around his waist over the coat to keep the coat under control, and kind of like Cloud's outfit. The actual concept was a mish-mash of ideas, based around the costumes of Aragorn, Van Helsing, and Vampire Hunter D.

Also, way back in Blood I made a passing reference to "Holy Order Seifer", back when I was still using the plan to have Illarra take over the world with her army and humanity struggle to survive. Seifer would lead a new special forces agency called The Order, and was supposed to wear a refined, buttoned up white robe and coat with a high collar, a mix of Ky Kiske's robes in Guilty Gear and Anderson's coat in Hellsing. This was, obviously, never implemented.

Now, for posterity's sake, and to get rid of the giant chunk of space in my profile, here's the soundtrack listing. As I've said, direct links to the OCRemix tracks are available on the forum, accessible from my profile page.

**Chimera Saga Theme - The Lost Horizon (FFVIII Blue Fields remix) / Destructo / OCRemix**

Squall's Theme - The Prisoner / Mothergoat

Rinoa's Theme - Everything Nothing (FFVIII Compression of Time remix) / Seifros / OCRemix

Seifer's Theme - Holy Orders (Ky Kiske's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Irvine's Theme -Liquor Bar and Drunkard (Johnny's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Selphie's Theme - Blue Water Blue Sky (May's theme) / Guilty Gear XX Soundtrack

Quistis' Theme - Writhe in Pain (Millia's theme) / Guilty Gear XX Soundtrack

Zell's Theme - Burly Heart (Potemkin's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Alucard's theme - The Vampire Saga (Slayer's theme) / Guilty Gear XX Korean soundtrack

Illarra's Theme - Bloodstained Lineage (Testament's theme) / Guilty Gear XX Soundtrack

Requiem's Theme - Ancient Machine / Martin O'Donnell / Halo 2 Soundtrack Vol. 1

Chimera's Theme - Atonement (Battle with Magus remix) / Darangen / OCRemix -

Nash's Theme - Keep Yourself Alive (Sol Badguy's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Hyne's Theme - The Dark Side of Phobos (Doom e1m5 remix) / Daniel Baronawsky / Dark Side of Phobos

Griever's Theme - The Glass Moon (Doom e1m8 remix)/ DJCarbunkle featuring Ryan8Bit / Dark Side of Phobos

Serra's Theme - Awe of She (Dizzy's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Randolph's Theme - Mahabharath Highlands (Halo MJOLNIR remix) / Freemind,Graylightning / OCRemix

Train Battle - Battle in the Forgotten City / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children Soundtrack

Razor's Crash Landing- Air Force One is Down (Perfect Dark Crash Site: Confrontation remix) / Daniel Baranowsky / OCRemix

Squall assembles the Sniper Rifle - Anakin's Betrayal / John Williams / Star Wars Episode III soundtrack

Assault on the Warehouse - Sandman / Metallica /

Squall vs. Illarra (Warehouse) - No Mercy (Sol vs. Ky EX) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Squall vs. Illarra (Castle) - Existence / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Nash vs. Hyne - Meet Again (Justice's theme) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

SeeD/Galbadia/Dollet vs. Esthar (defense)- Zenobia's Grave (Ogre Battle Impregnable Defense remix) /DJ-Kwix, Israfel / OCRemix

SeeD/Galbadia/Dollet vs. Esthar (Garden, assault) Insurrection (Halo MJOLNIR remix) / Krispy / OCRemix

Everyone vs. Alucard - Black Wind Rising (Battle with Magus remix) / Star Salzman / OCRemix

Squall vs. Illarra (Garden) - Noontide (Sol vs. Ky) / Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Squall vs. Bahamut - Divinity Part II / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children Soundtrack

Squall vs. Illarra (Final) - Advent: One Winged Angel / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children Soundtrack

Seifer vs. Griever - Feel a Fear (Eddie's theme)/ Guilty Gear XX soundtrack

Squall's Sacrifice - Alone / Mothergoat

Rinoa's Theme (Legacy) - Mecharok (Mechwarriors 2: Mercenaries remix) / Scott Peeples / OCRemix

Battle with Odine - Perdition Hardcore (FFVIII A Plank Between One and Perdition remix) / Orkybash / OCRemix

The Chimera Tests Rinoa - Unyielding / Mothergoat

Trainyard Assault - Sara Ni Takatau Monotachi / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children Soundtrack

Rinoa/Chimera vs. Requiem - Stricken / Disturbed / Ten Thousand Fists

Squall and Rinoa - Journey's End (FFX People of the North Pole remix)/ Gray Lightning, pixietricks, Sephfire / OCRemix

Martial Law - SeeD / Nobou Uematsu / FFVIII soundtrack

Dollet Warzone - A Plank Between One and Perdition / Nobou Uematsu / FFVIII soundtrack

Pursuit - Chase of the Highway / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children soundtrack

Randolph Vs. Illarra - The Raven (Castlevania 2 remix) / Goat / OCRemix

Squall and Rinoa vs. Illarra - J-E-N-O-V-A / Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children soundtrack

Squall's Pissed - Bloody Hell (CastlevaniaBloody Tears remix)/ Alisean, Kaijin / OCRemix

Battle Against Hyne - Intense Color (Mario Paint remix) / Sephire, SGX / OCRemix

Carpasia - Eternal Abyss (Ecco Sega CD remix) / GrayLightning / OCRemix

Carpasian Street Battle - Dark Conflict (Perfect Dark remix) / Psychoprhyte / OCRemix

Hyne Approaches the Pool - Darkness Dawning (Doom remix)/ Elsa Persson, Larsec / Dark Side of Phobos

Squall, Nash and Quistis vs. Hyne, Diablos, and Phoenix - Advent: One Winged Angel /

Nobou Uematsu / Advent Children Soundtrack

The Last Stand - The Last Summoning / Jared Hudson / OCRemix

Final Sunset - To Far Away Times (Chrono Trigger remix)/ Pixietricks, Reuben Kee / OCRemix

. . . And that's about it. Kaiser's unavailable for giving me another interview like last time, and I'm feeling lazy. A chapter-by-chapter commentary isn't really necessary (unless you people clamor and wave torches for one) and I want to put some ultimate closure to this story.

The Chimera Saga is finished. But I'm certainly not, of course. There's plenty of more insane ideas percolating in this head of mine, waiting to burst free. What next? My long-postponed Metal Gear novelization? That Knights of the Old Republic novelization I was considering? Mako? Bittersweet Synthesis? Halo? No idea. I've got a lot of stuff to work on. So, without further ado . . . .

Until next story . . . .


End file.
